A Proposal by Any Other Name
by LucidLucy
Summary: When Finn leaves on a trip to Europe for six months for work, Rey finally chases after him to Dublin to do what he seems to be putting off: propose. She wants a family, after all. The universe has different ideas: Rey's flights are delayed, storms hit, & to top it off, she ends up stranded around a rather irritating man named Kylo Ren. It goes about as well as you'd expect.
1. Chapter 1: Ticket

_Rey and Finn have been A Thing for a long time now. Since she was eighteen, to be exact. When Finn leaves on a trip to Europe for six months for work, Rey finally chases after him to Dublin to do what he seems to be putting off: propose._

 _She wants a family, after all._

 _The universe has different ideas. Her flights are delayed, storms hit, she loses her tickets and everything seems to be going horribly. To top it off, she ends up stranded around a rather irritating man by the name of Kylo Ren. It goes about as well as you'd expect._

A Leap Year AU.

 **Notes:**

Story loosely based on the movie Leap Year (2010), which does not belong to me. Just FYI.  
This will be a reylo slow burn (finished already, 39 chapters. I'm just now posting them on FFN as well as AO3), and I hope you all strap in because it'll be fun! Enjoy!

Rated T for now, will change to M eventually!

* * *

The loft is warm. Not the uncomfortable warm of a New York City summer with no air conditioner sort of warm, that wouldn't be for a few weeks yet, but of a late spring afternoon where the perfect yellow glint of late day bathes her hard wood floors and exposed brick in warmth, mixing with the heat from the oven where she and Finn had slaved for hours baking fresh loaves of bread for their get together that night. That sort of warm. The sort of warm that makes Rey think of homely comforts and happy memories. Rey smiles.

They are a loud bunch, these people. Finn's laughter carries raucously, infectiously, through the open floor plan of her loft as Jessika Pava regales them all with the latest gossip at The Resistance, the medium-sized circulation magazine for which they work. Poe's smile as he takes in Finn is that of an indulgent, patient boss despite him being just as amused by Jessika's tales as Finn is. It helps that he's already this shy of three bottles of beer already; he could claim deniability later. Bebe sits in their chair shoveling Finn's ridiculously delicious lasagna into their mouth, making strangled little noises in all the right places at Pava's tales.

The dinner was supposed to be Finn's send-off while he goes off to Europe and India to spend six months writing about its wonders. Poe would follow a week later. They had all squeezed themselves into Rey's little loft, loaded up the table with good food and better alcohol and got the music playing in the background in the light of the setting sun. Rey sits back and watches with an easy smile on her face. They still have a few hours yet before having to go to bed. Finn's flight was at ridiculous o'clock in the morning, for God knows what reason, and who even flies out that late? Rey hates the idea of red-eye flights, but Finn is needed on location, and so what is he to do but comply?

So they'd decided to do dinner in the middle of the afternoon instead of their evening plans, and currently all sat around the table discussing the latest bet going around the office: how soon would Lauren Kaydel pop. She's already two weeks overdue and still keeps going around the office, barking orders at everyone while waddling from one department to the next.

"I bet you it's no more than two weeks," Finn puts down his hand on the table with a smack, as if that solidified any betting.

Jessika lifts her eyebrows, "No way, have you seen her? She's the size of a school bus. Carrying twins is no joke. I give her no more than four days!"

Everyone giggles at the school bus analogy, Poe shaking his head but chuckling around the mouth of his bottle.

"Man I can't imagine how hard it is to have children," he pipes in after a long gulp. "Tiny babies running around making trouble."

"Yeah, if they take after _you_!" Bebe pipes in, pointing with a breadstick, and that sends the table back into laughter.

"They won't, Bebe, or are you forgetting I'm gay?" he says, arching an eyebrow. "No babies can come out from that hole."

Jessika cackles with a pinched nose, Bebe chokes on their breadstick, and Finn goes _AWWWW MAN! We're at the dinner table!_ But his cheeks have gone a little darker and he's laughing his head off anyway, and Rey can't help but giggle even though she's too busy trying to remember all of it in her mind. This whole moment in its beautiful summer sunset light. Her friends, lit up like golden gods, laughing and having a wonderful time.

"You can adopt," she supplies with a grin, "or find a surrogate mother."

It's the first time she's talked and all eyes turn on her, including Poe's, whose illegally gorgeous face breaks into a shit-eating grin.

"Are you offering? Because I totally wouldn't mind my kids getting some of your cute genes thrown in with that little button nose of yours."

She blushes and laughs but her chest aches because she wants a family more than anything. She wants to give her children a better childhood than she'd ever had. Then she catches the look Finn's giving her, because he's been there for most of it since she turned fifteen, and _he knows_. He averts his eyes quickly and so does she. They'd been dating for so long now, but the talk of marriage much less babies had never come up. Until—

"Nah! She'll have cute cinnamon roll babies with Finn! All that melanin and all that adorable cuteness all packed into one. Can you even imagine it?!" Jessika's excited little chime comes in as she leans forward. Jessika loves baby talk. "They're going to be so cute I want to _eat them_ already."

"Whoa, Jess, don't go cannibal on us," Poe supplies, knocking back the rest of his beer. Bebe, however, has been staring between Finn and Rey, carefully nibbling on a piece of bread.

And in true Bebe form, they chime in in the worst way possible, unaware that it's a really _sensible_ topic.

"They need to be married first, right, Poe? Before they have the babies," they affirm, all innocence, and everyone stops. Poe's brows furrows and he opens his mouth.

"Well, I mean, it's 2016, I don't think they _have_ to be—"

"Why aren't you married yet?" Bebe asks, this time addressing Rey.

A pin could be dropped and it would be as loud as an orchestra, except perhaps maybe for the sound of Finn choking on his drink.

Rey's face turns about three different shades of red and she clears her throat, looking between Jessika and Poe before her eyes settle where she had avoided looking. Finn.

He's clearing his chest by thumping it repeatedly and his eyes are teary, but he notices her watching him desperately and his lips give this weird little upward twitch. It's not a happy twitch, or an amused twitch, it's that smile that's torn between a grimace and a sympathetic frown. Rey clears her throat.

"Uhm, I—" she begins, and thankfully Poe has the tact to intercept.

"Really, Bebe, talk about subtlety. That's their business…"

Bebe isn't ready to drop it though. And neither is Jessika, who, after years of putting together the wedding section of The Resistance, has taken to living vicariously through everyone who's getting married or having babies. She flips her gorgeous hair over her shoulder and tilts her head, resting her chin on the back of her hand as she pushes a bowl of bread further away with her elbow, staring straight at Finn.

"Yeah, _Finn_ , why _aren't_ you two married already? You've been together since forever and a lifetime ago. Seriously you're all but married in name: you've been dating since you were eighteen, sharing a home since nineteen, and you even work at the same place. I expected some cute babies by now."

Oh but it's all gotten super uncomfortable, and when outnumbered two to one, Poe shrugs and basically buries his mug into his drink, refusing to get between Jessika 'The Wedding Expert' Pava and Bebe. Rey shoots him a glare and he shrugs again, though this time it's apologetic. Never let a man between a woman set on match-making a la OKCupid style and Bebe, whom didn't know the concept of social boundaries if it bit them in the nose. He would not win.

If Rey is looking uncomfortable Finn looks ready to let the floor open up and swallow him. He clears his throat uncomfortably and pushes a napkin aside.

"Well, we're…" he starts, and his voice shakes a little on the we , and Rey arches an eyebrow but says nothing, "It's not the right time yet."

All eyes turn to Rey. She pastes on a smile and agrees, clutching her own napkin under the table in a tight grip.

Finn knew how much she wanted a family.

Finn, who has been there for her since she'd turned fifteen, who watched her bounce horribly through the system, then had watched her end up in Unkar Plutt's greasy hands. Finn who knew that the only reason they have this very same apartment is because Unkar Plutt is also the landlord, and as soon as he'd had enough to rent it, he'd taken her out from under Plutt the second she aged out of the system. Finn knew. He'd always known how much she wanted to have a family of her own, a place to belong, a place away from here. A place that was hers.

He'd always tell her she belonged with him, and somehow that reassurance had turned into dating. Dating had turned into sleeping together, and they'd remained in this same apartment for going on four years because rent in New York City is ridiculous, and Plutt is giving them a discount on the excuse of _having his little girl close_. Finn knew. And because of their situation, him as a writer and her as a freelancer, it had never been the right time.

Jessika gives them a glance that says she's not buying it, and Bebe's just looking at them curiously but without any sort of judgement. Poe has decided that his beer bottle contains the secrets of the universe. It stays tense for a breath longer before Rey finally gets up the courage to talk.

"Dessert anyone?"

And suddenly there's a sigh of relief from the men, Finn piping in that he's been waiting for cannolis all day, and Rey takes the diversion to wander off into their tiny but well equipped kitchen, pulling the cannolis from the fridge and using the solitude to compose herself. She takes a deep breath, her hand resting on her stomach, then closes her eyes and counts. One. Two. Three.

She makes it to ten and opens her eyes, then glues a happy, charming grin on her face as she returns.

"Fresh made!"

Everyone starts showering her with compliments over the dessert and she laughs.

"Yes, I am super skilled at baking. So skilled that it only took a call to that authentic Italian restaurant two blocks away and BAM! Delicious sweets."

The conversation devolves into giggles and playful jabs, and it's as though the marriage and baby talk had never happened. Everyone takes their leave when Finn finally looks at the clock and very apologetically informs everyone that he has to go to bed, because one o'clock will be here before they even know it. Rey takes care of the dishes and Finn kisses her on the cheek for being so sweet, and by the time Rey comes into the bedroom he's already passed out on their large king-sized bed. She sighs, a soft smile coming up to her lips as she pulls off his shoes. He hadn't even bothered to take them off before falling face first into a pillow. She sets them aside then slowly makes herself ready for bed, watching the dimming light coming in through the windows.

Rey rubs the heel of her hand into her forehead with a sigh, finally letting out a deep breath she had been holding all night.

She should let it go. She knows she should. It's stupid really. But she can't. Bebe's _why aren't you married yet?_ Keeps rattling around her skull, and Rey would have never thought herself the kind who would be waiting on any man to propose, to sweep her off her feet and carry her to her happy ever after, but damn it she'd never had a happy ending up until Finn arrived, she'd never had a secure future, and… _well_. She feels stupid for thinking that marriage would provide her that, but Finn is _perfect_. He is perfect in every sense of the word.

He's the sort of guy who would call in sick if she was sick, only to stay home and baby her. He's the kind of guy who planned romantic dinners for no reason, and ended them on the couch watching chick flicks and being just as invested in them as she was, and would totally watch that k-drama without any sense of shame over crying his eyes out right along with her at the super sad moments. He's the sort of guy who'd wrap her up into a hug and shower her in kisses in the middle of a lazy afternoon, and tell her she's beautiful, and how lucky he is to have her. He's the kind of guy who made sweet love to her as though she were made to be worshipped.

She looks at him, snoring lightly into the pillow.

Finn is a good man.

She'd let it go. They'd be ready eventually. Eventually, it would be the right time.

She grabs her macbook pro from where it rests under her side of the bed and powers it up because she still can't sleep, and after a moment of scrolling through reddit and Making Star Wars, and finding absolutely nothing new or of interest, she hops on Facebook. There are photos of Bebe, Jessika and Poe at a bar, the phone held front-facing by Poe's long arm as they all give cheesy smiles into the camera. The flash is on and there's darkness behind them but she notices some purple blue lights in the back, and they're all holding those cheesy red cups full of cheap beer. A nightclub. Rey grins, they'd taken the party on the road.

Good for them.

She keeps scrolling.

It proves to be a mistake.

There are pictures of her coworkers, more specifically, of the ever pregnant Kaydel cuddling with her husband. and some of her high school friends she never talks to anymore. And they all seem to already be having the picture perfect lives, flashes of engagement rings blinding her eyes even through the screen, and pictures of cute little toddlers running around with sweet messages like:

Carly _writes_ …

 _"Running around trying to chase each other with the fake sabers daddy bought them during their trip to Disney. Haven't been able to put them down in two weeks! Aren't they wonderful!"_

Rey slams the screen down and shoves the laptop back under her bed. She lands on her soft pillow with a huff and crosses her arms over the duvet, staring at the ceiling with a frown.

Seriously? When had she turned into the girl that would pine for marriage and babies? She was only twenty three! She should be out with Poe and Jessika and Bebe getting shit faced, not sitting here throwing side glances at her partner wishing the man would do something about it. But after a life of having nothing she wanted so much more. Was that irresponsible of her? Naive or stupid? Rey worries at her lip.

Then she turns on her side and looks at Finn before closing her eyes. She needed sleep. One o'clock will be approaching soon.

It goes in the blink of an eye.

There's a hand shaking her and Rey grumbles. Finn plants a soft kiss on her temple.

"Come on, sleepy head, I have to make it to the airport."

They only have the one car, so Rey would drive him then drive herself back. That was the agreement. She nearly tells him to just take the car and she'll take cabs forever until he's back, and perhaps she does say it because Finn is chuckling.

"You could never afford that. Come on, Peanut, time to get up."

Rey sits up with a sigh and rubs her face. Finn's already dressed up as he walks around and starts shoving stuff into his suitcase. It's literally his whole wardrobe. He'll be gone for six months. The idea sours her stomach. Six months without him. Six months without Finn to come home to, or to help her through rough patches, or to act as a shield between her and Plutt. She almost wants to ask him to stay. She wouldn't be so worried if Poe wasn't joining Finn in a week, well and truly leaving her with no back up in case Plutt got handsy again. He'd tried a couple of times.

He comes around and gives her another kiss as if knowing what she's thinking about.

"It'll be over before you know it," he reassures her. Rey grunts but gets up and goes to brush her teeth and get ready, then grabs her wallet and her keys.

Twenty minutes later they're weaving through the thankfully mostly deserted streets of Manhattan and off towards JFK. John F Kennedy airport was huge, and also literally the main airport to New York City, as all New Yorkers knew. La Guardia was the sadder little cousin to JFK, really. Which meant that soon enough traffic would start piling on.

The drive is quiet. She catches Finn looking at her every once in a while through the rearview mirror, a worried look on his face, but she keeps her eyes on the road, trying not to think too hard on this. Once she pulls up to drop-off, she finds a place to park at the entrance along the curb and unbuckles her seatbelt, and Finn pulls her into the warmest embrace, as if making up for the six month absence, holding her there until she needs air.

"I'll miss you, Peanut," he murmurs into her neck, and Rey sighs and hugs him tighter. Air can wait. She's never been this far from Finn since she was a teenager and he's not even gone yet.

"Come back soon, alright?" she whispers in return, her hands fisted into his tan leather jacket. He nods, then plants a soft kiss on her temple and pulls away. He unbuckles and gives her the dazzling smile she's always associated with him.

"Back in a heartbeat."

One last soft peck on the lips and he's gone, and Rey's staring at him from her driver's seat until she can no longer see him past security check, letting out a shuddering breath. She sits at drop-off for way too long. So long, in fact, that a van comes up from behind and honks obnoxiously at her to move. A whole family looking ready to be dropped off. With a sigh, she pulls her car into gear and makes for the exit, thoughts on the dinner again.

It keeps bouncing around in her head and she grunts, turning on the radio to max to forget against the noise. Except the universe hates her when Livin' on A Prayer comes on.

 _She says, we've got to hold onto what we've got._

Why had she let Bebe and Jessika get to her? She should know better. She's known for a long time they weren't ready. It shouldn't make a difference.

 _It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not._

But it does make a difference.

 _We've got each other and that's a lot for love._

She accidentally misses the fact that she cut someone off and somebody honks angrily at her. Rey curses, speeding up enough to give the person enough room to accelerate with an apologetic wave of her hand.

 _We'll give it a shot._

Rey stares at the airport as she drives by.

 _Whoa, we're halfway there._

She bites her lip.

 _Whoa, livin' on a prayer._

She thinks back to all the damn pictures on Facebook and grunts. Everyone else had gone after what they wanted, and here she was putting what she wanted on a plane to Europe, not to see him again for six months. She can't let him go like that. Not without saying something.

 _Take my hand, we'll make it I swear._

With a huff, she turns the car around. She finds the nearest exit and heads right back to the airport.

She hadn't made up her mind. Not when taking the exit, not when finding parking, not when pulling up to the airport breathless from running. She doesn't know what she'll say to him. She's acting on instinct and pure adrenaline and it's not like her and damn it, she'll do it anyway.

When she finally reaches the gate, the plane's boarding.

No. No, no no no.

She makes her decision.

She runs back to the counter.

"I want a ticket for that plane!" she points to the big flight times display, and the lady at the counter gives her a strange look.

" _I'm_ _sorry_ , ma'am, but that plane is readying for departure," the woman offers apologetically, "perhaps I can schedule you for another one?"

"No! My boyfriend's aboard that plane. I need to get to him. I have things to tell him, you see?" she argues for her case with a near pleading tone. The woman gives her a sympathetic look, the sympathetic look of someone who's seen far too many love stricken people trying to stop planes like in the movies, not knowing that captains and airlines were sticklers about departure and arrival times.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I could ask them to stop so he can come out…"

Rey shakes her head.

"No, he has to get to Dublin. But if..could I just..?" she asks. The lady shakes her head.

"No, I'm sorry." Then she looks at the screen. "Sorry, ma'am. Even if I could help…" She points to the big flight times display.

The plane'd been marked as departed.

Rey sags.

She'd missed him.

The counter lady taps her on the shoulder. "Ma'am?"

She'd decided.

If it wasn't the right time, she'd make it the right time. Finn kept putting it off, so she would do it for him. She'd propose.

Rey turns robotically.

"Are there any flights going there right now?" she asks. The lady shakes her head, then noticing that Rey isn't looking, speaks her negative outloud.

"No, ma'am. These are red-eye hours. The next one leaving for Dublin won't be until eight in the morning."

Rey takes in a deep breath, then opens her wallet. She looks inside. She only brought her keys with her, her phone, and her wallet. In it were her ID, her passport - which she'd always kept in her wallet in hopes for a just-in-case impromptu romantic trip with Finn, she thinks wryly - a ticket to a long-over broadway musical, rubbed at the edges and fading, ten dollars and some change, a debit card and her credit cards. Rey didn't have much in her savings account. Oftentimes she was paycheck to paycheck as it was.

She sets her lip and whips out her credit card.

"One seat, please." She requests.

The counter lady didn't think she'd go through with it, probably because nobody ever went through with it, but then she sees Rey's stern set to her jaw and nods.

"That'll be three thousand dollars round trip," she says, bringing up her screens.

Rey nearly falls on her face.

 _"How much?"_ she manages to croak, also passing along her ID and passport.

"It's a last minute trans-atlantic flight, ma'am. Or would you like a one-way?"

Rey swallows. She could buy a one-way ticket, but her sense of self preservation tells her a round trip ticket would be the best thing she could hope for. She shakes her head and accepts the round trip ticket, passing over her card. The ticket alone maxes it out. The most she has on it is about ten dollars after that, and she internally aches at spending that much money.

The counter lady gives her a soft smile as she passes Rey her brand spanking new three thousand dollar plane tickets.

"Nothing to check in?"

Rey shakes her head quietly.

"Gate E3, off to your left. Good luck, ma'am. I hope you get to him in time."

Rey looks at the lady and bites back on the anxiety crawling up her chest. She nods and gives a thank you rather mutely, before going through security. She's not wearing much. Sweatpants and a t-shirt, because she had intended go right back to bed. They usher her through and soon enough she finds herself at Gate E3, with literally nothing but her keys, a cellphone, and a wallet with one maxed out credit card already. She sighs, looking out the dark windows at the sprawling space where silent winged metal creatures sit.

This is stupid. This is so stupid. And she's doing it.

Rey plops herself on an empty chair. The whole place is deserted except for a few people walking about, staff and tired flight attendants, and a few civilians wandering around even though everything's closed for the night.

She curls up on a chair, knees to chest, arms wrapped around, and drops her head onto her knees, finally exhausted.

It's so stupid.

But her options would be to go back to an empty apartment and a lonely life for six months and a creepy landlord who also happened to have been her foster father for a really uncomfortable four years. No.

She's going to Dublin.

She's going after Finn.

She's doing this.

* * *

 ** _Author's note:_** Hello, all! Welcome to A Proposal by Any Other Name. Hope you enjoyed. The song lyrics are from Bon Jovi's Livin' on a Prayer.

This story is finished. I am just posting it here as well. There are 39 chapters and will be updating weekly (as consistently as I can make it).


	2. Chapter 2: Clock

Hello! Chapter two now up, just to get the ball rolling.

* * *

The headache throbbing behind his eyeballs is threatening to overpower him.

The second the airplane descends and they're allowed to unbuckle — all five of the passengers aboard the 737 Delta red-eye flight, that is — Kylo shoves himself out of his seat and reaches for his leather duffel bag, digging around in its contents. After a second too long of searching, his large hands finally wrap around a hard leather case, soft under his touch, and he yanks it out in a heartbeat. A moment later the aviator shades are out of their usual housing and propped on his prominent nose. The shades dim the lights beating against the strain of his eyes and he lets out a sigh of relief.

 _Fucking finally._

A leggy blonde flight attendant is waiting in front of the doors as he exits first class, blessedly the first one because the last thing he wants to do right now it take half-steps behind some lagging passenger all the way to the exit, and she gives him a dazzling smile. Leggy, as he's quickly thinking of her, extends her hand out to him to shake. It's not a courtesy often given to passengers, _ever_ , and he notes the small slip of paper she leaves behind with a purred ' _Thank you for flying with Delta_ ' once he reluctantly takes her hand.

He stares at it. A phone number.

What she'd really meant was t _hank you for letting me ogle you the whole five hours it took to get from Los Angeles to New York. Call me._

He gives her a curt nod and nothing more, towering past her and out through the ramp, immediately dropping the slip of paper in the nearest trash can.

Thank God for tinted shades. The lights of the gate where he's about to sit himself to wait for far too long are so bright he'd scream if not for the small amount of coverage the Ray Bans were providing, and even then, he'd had to squint. Long fingers run through already mussed hair and he looks around. The place is pretty much deserted.

He checks his ticket.

Gate E3. Sure. All the way across the fucking airport. Of course they'd drop him off as far away as humanly possible.

 _Silver linings, Kylo,_ he reminds himself, _at least you get to stretch your legs. At least you're not in fucking LA right now, dealing with Snoke and Hux's fucking face._

The strap of his duffel bag goes over his head, he checks to make sure his wallet's in his back pocket, and he digs out headphones from the front one along with his phone, then hesitates. To get to the music he has to turn the phone on. To turn the phone on meant notifications. Notifications meant potential missed calls and a barrage of messages.

He shoves his phone back in his pocket, right along with his headphones. Music could wait.

Languid, long steps aided by automated, moving walkways see him closing in on E3 twenty minutes later. There's no rush. Most of the airport is entirely empty at two in the morning, with only a few cleaning staff running around getting their work done before the rush of early morning 7:00AM flights. There were still at least three hours of peace and silence. Kylo pulls a long, white ticket tab out of his pocket and checks the time. His flight would be leaving at 8:00am, the earliest one to Dublin. He grunts.

 _Silver linings, Kylo,_ he reminds himself. _At least you're stuck at an airport for six hours rather than stuck at Snoke & Sons, dealing with stupid lawsuits._

The whole thing had become a mantra since he'd walked away in a fury from Snoke's office less than twenty hours ago. It was what kept carrying him, one step ahead of the next, through the crowded streets of LA, into a cab home to pick up his valuables then off to LAX. On the way there he'd ranted into the phone at a petrified part-timer who was unfortunate enough to be working the evening shift when Kylo called to put his lease on hold.

 _"I'm sorry, sir, but you can't just break a lease half-way through the year. Summers are hard times for finding tenants. Everyone's already moved in in the early spring. I can always call the manager…"_ She'd squeaked on the line.

Kylo had refrained from tossing the phone out the moving cab, instead punching the empty backseat next to him. The cab driver had given him a nervous glance, as if Kylo was one of those creeps who suddenly turned violent and murderous on unsuspecting cab drivers in the middle of the night. At that moment, he might have been.

"Fine, fine. Put me through to your manager— actually, no, call the god damn owner of the complex. Yes, yes. The owner. Did you not hear me? I don't care that he's on vacation! Do it now!" He barked, his voice rising the longer he'd been kept waiting. The poor girl had jumped as if he'd asked how high, and ten minutes later the owner was being put through the third line, greeting him from somewhere in the sunny Bahamas.

 _"What can I help you with, Mr. Ren?"_ the man he'd never met had asked, all professionalism even with the obvious tropical music playing in the background. Kylo stared out towards the bay, dark except for moonlight and traffic over the bridge; the cab driver finally decided to just mind his own business.

"I'm your tenant in loft A4, though I'm sure you're aware of that by now," He bit through his teeth, trying to stay as calm as humanly possible despite the shit show he'd exited not but an hour ago still boiling at his nerves.

 _"Yes, yes, of course. You're one of the lawyers with that giant law firm, right?"_ the man asked, all cheer.

"Partner." Kylo corrects, "And, I was. I'm calling to put my lease on hold."

He'd exited his place with barely a plan in mind, an old birthday card that had held a promise made eons ago, and enough clothes to cycle through a month or so before having to repeat outfits. He propped the phone between ear and shoulder as his hands came down to yank at the sleeves of his well tailored suit jacket, having long traded perfectly pressed work slacks for comfortable jeans.

 _"I'm sorry, but like Raquelle had mentioned, we don't often hold leases mid yea-"_

Oh, but Kylo could _scream_.

 _"FINE!"_ he shouts, then takes a deep breath, "Fine. Then I'll buy the stupid place. Charge my goddamn bank account. You have my information on file, correct?"

He heard stuttering through the phone, a half choke of a man who didn't expect Kylo to basically drop four million dollars so casually on an apartment he wouldn't be living in any time soon. His tone immediately changed from placating to delighted and awfully subservient.

 _"Oh, but of course, Mr. Ren! That would be our pleasure! I'm so glad you've considered us to become your permanent home."_

Of course it would be his pleasure. He'd just been given a rather large influx of cash. Kylo rolled his eyes. _"When are we clear to do the transaction? I assume you'd like to make sure you have the fund-"_

"Now. Now, Mr. Whoever You Are. Just make sure I have a place to live in still when I come back." Kylo clipped then immediately clicked the call off while the man was still mid-sentence, showering all sorts of niceties and congratulations on the new acquisition on Kylo.

And just like that, Kylo had basically left everything he'd worked for and picked up a plane ticket to Ireland, like the moron he was. He'd let temper get the best of him, _again_. He'd managed to basically give his parents a quick, strained call letting them know he was leaving the country — _for a while,_ he'd said, when they pressed about how long — and hopped on a connecting flight to New York.

He turns the ticket around. This is either his ticket to freedom, however temporary, or his ticket to a colossal mistake.

With another gruff sigh and yet another nervous run of fingers through hair, he approaches gate E3. It's empty save for a single small form curled up on a chair, obviously sleeping. He looks at it… A girl, by size and the long curls spilling out of a messy half bun. He dismisses her out of hand and finds a seat in the corner of the seating area, where he can keep an eye both on the gate, the hallways, and the ramps currently bathed in darkness. He drops his bag unceremoniously on the seat next to his and digs out his phone again as he takes his seat.

Still off. Still waiting.

He palms the sleek phone, turning it around over and over in his hand and stalling, then makes up his mind. His options are turning the thing on and facing the notifications in order to get to his playlists, or sitting here with nothing to do but stare at a sleeping hobo teenager. Everything else is closed and it's only the two of them.

He turns on his phone.

Immediately the beeps and brrp's of missed phone calls, left over voicemails, and text messages flood his ears. He cringes, the headache he's been carrying since the previous night spiking. He scrolls:

 _Missed voicemail: Katherine P._

 _Missed voicemail: B. Hux_

 _Missed phonecall: Snoke_

 _Text message from Katherine P: Honey, come back. I know we can all work this out, really. It wa…_

 _Missed phone call._

 _Missed phone call._

 _Missed voicemail._

The list goes on for a while.

Kylo closes his eyes and lets the pings and noises finish out their incessant drilling into his temple until they exhaust themselves, then finally unlocks his screen and ignores the bright red bubbles screaming for his attention, going instead to his music app.

The headache's persistent, but at least he can drown out the bullshit going on through his mind with angrier music, because it's easier than going around breaking things in an airport all the way across the country.

As soon as the music gets going, he rests his head against the wall, earbuds shoved against his eardrums, and closes his eyes, letting the dull darkness behind his shades lull him to a quiet place.

And it's perfect, it's literally all perfect, and he's finally starting to relax hours later when a hand taps his shoulder. He jerks his eyes open, frowning. The hobo teenager is standing in front of him, except it's not a hobo teenager but a young woman looking disheveled and exhausted. From what little he can see behind his glasses, she must be in her early twenties, with a wide mouth as she offers him a shy smile, and what he thinks must be dirt smudges on her nose. He blinks, then pulls his earbuds out.

"Yes?" he asks when she makes no move to speak. She fidgets a little, then lifts her slender wrists in offering. In her hands she holds some keys, a wallet, and a phone. The phone is lifted higher than the other items.

"I'm sorry to bother you but…" she looks around, "there's no one else around. Would you be so kind to tell me what time it is? My phone's battery's dead."

Kylo arches an eyebrow. Who goes around without a charger cable in this century? Before he can stop his big mouth, he asks as much.

She tenses visibly, and he allows his eyes to travel down the hall from where he sits. There's a clock mounted on the wall. He arches an eyebrow.

So, she's _one of_ _those_. One of those like the flight attendant, who so crassly had dropped off her number in the hands of a perfect stranger, or the teeny boppers who stared in the streets because he was tall.

Not having the time because of a dead battery is a _horrible_ excuse. This is an airport. The whole place operates strictly on accurate timing. There would be clocks everywhere.

"Look, you don't have to be rude about it—" she starts, and he cuts her off.

"Normally, I would say it's time for you to go buy yourself an iPhone cable, but considering there's a clock _right there_ ," he points towards the clock on the wall, "Perhaps you'd be better served by looking at it?"

He's being a complete asshole. He knows it. Usually he can just ignore women like this one and go on his merry way, but after having to deal with Snoke and his _sons_ — or, rather, _son,_ now — he had zero patience for anyone.

The girl before him draws herself up to whatever maximum height she can manage on her tiny frame and glares at him, stiffly squaring her shoulders.

"Thank you, _sir_ ," she clips with faked sincerity, "For being so _helpful_. If I could give you a piece of advice, though? perhaps it's time for you to go find yourself some manners, asshole."

She stomps off towards the wall clock and he's left looking at her retreating back, clothed in a baggy t-shirt two sizes too big and sweatpants dragging on the floor. Young hobo women. Was that what they found appealing nowadays? Still. That had been quite a comeback.

 _Impressive_.

Maybe she hadn't been trying to get in his pants after all. He gives a small smirk despite himself and shakes his head, closing his eyes and returning the earbuds to his ears. Three more hours until take-off.

Three hours fly by. Hobo woman doesn't come back, but the area quickly starts filling up. The second he sees how many passengers there are he turns to the counter to buy a first class ticket, because man it's going to be cramped, and his legs are long enough already.

"I'm sorry sir, but all first class seats are booked."

Kylo groans internally. He'd been hearing nothing but sad excuses for apologies for days now. He takes in a deep breath and counts.

One.

Two.

Three.

"Alright, thank you, ma'am," he replies, earning him a dazzling smile that he almost misses as he walks away, turning instead to wait patiently in line as passengers are asked to board.

He stares at the five year old walking up with his parents into first class and glares. That pipsqueak had basically taken his seat.

 _Drop it. You're being stupid. It's a seven hour flight. You can make it._

He grumbles to himself, realizing that he's probably starting to go mad with all the talking he's been doing with himself. Thankfully, at least, the line goes quickly enough.

He finds his row, C3, close enough to the front that the seats still have semi comfortable leg space. Not so bad. His headache has finally started to ease up, so he takes off his shades and puts them into its leather casing in the leather duffel bag, then and shoves the bag into the overhead compartment. He's on the aisle seat, so that at least he has _one_ elbow with space as he waits for everyone else to come through.

The plane fills up rapidly, and Kylo looks down at his watch.

Seven Forty-Five.

Fifteen more minutes and the plane would take off, and his body would be off this godforsaken state and out of this country and as far away from his previous coworkers as he can get.

Passengers file past until everyone's seated, and Kylo's surprised to see the two seats next to him are still wide open. The captain is coming on the system to welcome them all to their flight and tell them about time and temperature, and all this other nonsense about what they should expect mid-flight.

Kylo looks back down at his watch.

Seven Fifty-Five.

Flight attendants pass by, taking their sweet time with him as they ask if he's comfortable, and Kylo gives silent nods but mostly keeps his eyes glued on the front seat ahead of him. No children near by. Seems like the pipsqueak in first class was the only child. Good. Hopefully there'd be no noises.

Flight attendants keep flowing by and he hears the engines prepping, but there's no announcement of take-off. He looks at his watch again.

Eight o'Three.

He frowns.

If there's something he hates, it's lack of punctuality. They should be taking off by now.

Finally the systems overhead go off and the copilot's coming on.

 _"Apologies, everybody. Seems like we're waiting for somebody yet. It should be any moment now. We're about to give the second call."_

Systems go off and Kylo grinds his teeth.

His watch reads 8:10. He drums his fingers on the arm of the seat as whispers start going up, people chatting and some wondering when the last person would board, and would they go already? If someone was late they shouldn't expect everyone else to be held up, a cranky business man huffs. Kylo wholeheartedly agrees.

Then it's 8:15 and suddenly a body is rushing by hurriedly with whispered apologies every two steps, and he narrows his eyes. There's a flow of half curls from a shoulder length bob, and a girl comes in in what looks like a floral sundress, arms loaded with…

Are those clothes bags?

He nearly bites his tongue.

They were detained because of some girl's _shopping trip?_

She's rushing through down the door and through aisle, hurriedly shoving clothes into a Louis Vuitton monogrammed shoulder bag from the men's collection, tag still on it, shoulders hunched and firing off apologetic whispers.

Then her voice hits him.

It's that same British-esque accent.

She's the reason their flight's been delayed?

Kylo curses to himself but sets his eyes straight ahead, glued on the strawberry blonde mop of curls of whoever's sitting in front of him, determined to ignore her until she walks past.

There's a tap — more like a painful jab — on his shoulder. Really? Really? It would have to be his luck.

"Excuse me," she starts, but when he looks up her face sours, "Oh. You."

 _Well, hello to you, too, perfect stranger with a spoiled princess complex._ He glares at her bag then very slowly brings up his eyes until they meet hers.

"Yes?" he asks, drawing out the question, this time within reason to be entirely annoyed at this girl.

"That's my seat," she points to the window seat. Then she points at his knees, blocking her absolutely from passing. "And you're in the way."

People on the other side of the aisle and from behind are staring at them from the corners of their eyes, and a few whispers rise up. He considers blocking her and forcing her to go sit elsewhere.

But then he reminds himself that he has a place to be, and the longer he sits here being childish, the longer it'll take him to get there. He gives her one long look through petulantly hooded lids then sighs, loudly and painfully, as he lifts himself up. He has to nearly curve himself into an S-Shape, his head almost banging on the painfully low overhead lights, and she quickly shoves past him, plopping on her seat and ignoring him as she continues fussing with her brand new clothes. When she finally manages to stuff them into a too small bag that's meant for work, not travel — yet another thing that sets him on edge, and he's already hating everything about this person — she plops it in the empty seat next to them.

"You know, there's an overhead compartment for that." He clips.

She gives him an icy glare then turns to the window, pushing up the shades to look outside. And the list of annoyances keep piling up.

"Thanks for holding up our flight, by the way," he gives with total sarcasm, but she doesn't look at him. He nearly kicks the front seat.

He should _drop it already._

He gives the stupid Louis Vuitton bag one last angry look.

Seven hour flight.

This would be _fun_.

* * *

 ** _Author's note:_ ** I hope you all enjoyed! Updated chapter two right away so that the ball on this story could get rolling. From now on it's weekly updates (I will try for Thursdays or Fridays?). Do let me know what you think in the comments section! those email notifications always make my day 3


	3. Chapter 3: Peanuts

Between her first horrible encounter with the jerk currently sitting two seats down from her and her rushed entrance into the airplane, the sun had gone up. It was that bright, crystalline light of early morning as the sun spread over the sprawling New York city skyline and Rey hates it. In that moment, she hates basically everything. She is tired, crabby, and hungry, and her flight would be seven hours long.

She leans back on the headrest of her seat and stares out the window anyway, reminding herself why she is doing all of this.

Finn. She's doing this for Finn. For a future that doesn't hang on _'it's not the right time yet.'_

"Ma'am?"

This whole trip is insane, she knows. In a matter of… what? Six hours? She'd maxed one credit card and placed almost three thousand dollars on the other, bringing it dangerously close to max-out as well. She'd stalked off after Mr. Jerkface sitting to her left had been the rudest, most insufferable asshole on the planet at five in the morning, choosing instead to wander the empty airport for the next two hours until stores started to open. As soon as she'd looked at herself in a mirror inside a ladies' bathroom under fluorescent lighting that made her look sick and pale, she'd realized she had brought nothing with her. Nothing except a wallet, keys and a phone. _And no charger._

"Ma'am?"

So she'd set about to look for any open stores where she could buy some toiletries, a few changes of clothes for once she arrived in Dublin, and a bag to put them in. By seven in the morning stores were slowly opening up… one here, one there, but they were scattered across the airport and Rey kept conscious of not walking too far from her gate. Her flight left at eight o'clock, after all.

She'd found a few stores with some cute clothes, all overpriced as was the custom of airport shops, but she'd already charged a ridiculous amount of money on one card so buying a few sundresses, a pair of jeans, and three cute tops didn't feel so painful. She'd walked into the changing room of a store and immediately put on a beautiful floral sundress with peachy coral solids between the flowers that she knew Finn would like. He liked the color coral. She fidgeted with the closure behind her back until she made a knot then sighed. Some of her back was exposed, but it was long enough to not be indecent, and it was summer after all. It'd keep her comfortable. Thankfully she'd had the good sense to shove her feet into her black oxford flats before driving Finn to JFK, which she'd purposely bought two years prior because they were neutral and oxford flats could be worn with just about anything. That saved her having to spend more money on unnecessary things.

"Ma'am?"

She had then stopped by a convenience kiosk and picked up travel-size toiletries, since those seemed to be offered just about everywhere, and a cheap lipstick a bright shade of red that she knew Finn adored. It was seven thirty. Time to hurry. She needed a bag to put all of this stuff in, then she'd be set.

Except, of course, when it rained it poured.

Nothing that sold luggage was open. Nothing but an expensive looking flag store with a golden LV sign on the outside. She'd seen these in the past, and knew better than to walk in and even _look_ at price tags. She kept walking until she reached the end of the hall. Nothing. No other stores offering luggage were open yet. She walked back down the opposite side, passing the LV store front a second time. Nothing that way either. Rey had nearly wanted to scream, because how come no luggage store was open at an _airport?!_

Instead of screaming, she bit down on her irritation and stalked into the LV store. She _needed_ a bag.

The lady at the counter immediately tried to sucker her into spending more than she ever made in a year on a collection of five hardshell luggages. Rey had laughed in her face because who even had that much money to drop on something as silly and rarely used as suitcases? The sales lady immediately had become cool towards her, but still guided her to smaller selections, much less interested in the sale once she realized Rey had no immense amounts of money. That is, until Rey spotted one that would serve her well for the few items she had. When she read the tag, it was something called a _Damier Icare_ , whatever that meant.

The lady's little heels came clicking rapidly to Rey's side, bouncing around the warmly lit, cozy store, suddenly full of charm again now that something in the store had captivated Rey's interest.

 _"Oh this would be a beautiful choice!"_ she piped in in singsong. _"It is, however, a business travel bag meant for men, thou—"_

Rey had looked up and given her a look, and the woman had the sense to quiet down. What did it matter if it was meant for men? It was a _bag_ , for pete's sake. The woman changed course.

 _"It would fit the items you carry, however, rather comfortably. And it's also intended to be a computer bag so you can use it for business later."_ The woman kept offering uses for the bag but Rey knew she was starting to run out of time and needed to make her decision quickly. She looked at the price tag and nearly swallows her tongue.

 _Two thousand, three hundred and forty dollars_ for a bag half the size of her sturdy military-style duffel bag at home. _What?!_ She'd go look for another bag elsewhere.

"I'm sorry, what time is it?" she asked, giving the lady a side glance and trying to look a lot friendlier than she'd come off just ten minutes ago. The lady checked her dainty little golden watch and frowned.

 _"Seven forty five, ma'am."_

 _SHIT._

She had exactly fifteen minutes to get back to her gate, and that gate was exactly about fifteen minutes away. Any longer and she'd miss her flight. She couldn't miss her flight. She couldn't go back to her apartment and to Plutt. She needed to go find Finn. Rey bit her tongue hard and opened up her wallet.

"I'll take it," she responds, passing the card to the woman, "could you please hurry? I need to be at my gate in fifteen."

The lady bounded off, happily telling her she had made an excellent choice, and that the bag was 100% leather and, with good care, it would last her a lifetime. Rey tried not to cry over the fact that she'd just charged over two thousand dollars to her second card, leaving her dangerously low on funds. She looked at the stupid thing as the lady took great care trying to put it into a dust bag. Rey had shaken her head and made to grab it.

 _"No need!"_ the lady quips, and Rey had given a glare she hadn't intended on but then the lady had sighed and put the dust bag inside the LV leather bag instead with quickly spoken _"I understand, you're in a hurry._ Sorry _ma'am."_

And just like that Rey had found herself bolting out the store with a hurried thank you after taking her card back, about to cry because the last thing she wanted was a leather bag that cost her a month's worth of rent, but she had a plane to catch. This was for Finn. It was all for Finn.

She had pulled the band from her hair while running to the gate, determined to look at least presentable, and was _just_ arriving as the third call was being given for Rey Jakken.

"I'm here! I'm here! Please don't go without me!" she'd called, running up to the lady on the microphone. The attendants gave her understanding if slightly resigned looks, reserved for those who had done this a million times to them, before ushering her in. Every single eye in the airplane had settled on her.

"Ma'am?"

A finger jabs into her arm and she jumps, brought back to reality rather abruptly. When she sees who had touched her, she flinches.

"Hey. She's talking to you," comes the low staccato of the man sitting beside her.

He's looking at her and he's clearly annoyed, all hard slants of mouth and eyes as he regards her like a bug. Rey's eyes widen and look past him to the flight attendant who's standing with her hands folded in front of her, trying hard to keep a grimace off her professional facade.

"Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry. I must have spaced out," Rey stutters.

She had been so lost in her own thoughts that she'd _completely_ missed the woman addressing her. Every eye in the airplane is turned to her and Rey swallows, ears turning red, thankful to have them hidden under her hair. The flight attendant gives her a patient smile, all professionalism, even though Rey can tell she's clearly annoyed. Rey swallows.

"Ma'am, you need to put your bag away, we're ready for take-off," the attendant explains, finally.

 _Earth, swallow me whole now._

Rey nods emphatically, hair bobbing as she drowns in embarrassment. The attendant, seemingly happy about this, walks away. Rey makes to get up and then bites her tongue. Her fellow passenger's knees are the length of the brooklyn bridge, and they're currently blocking her access. He looks at her with an arched eyebrow as she grabs her bag and makes towards him, waiting for him to get up and let her through.

"Uhm, excuse me—"

"You know, if you'd ask me real nice, I might put that bag up there for you," Jerkface offers, but his mouth is slanted in the most shit-eating smirk and Rey nearly smacks him with her bag.

" _No_ , thank you."

He gives her a long look, but then she looks at the passengers around them, all waiting patiently, and his eyes are forced to follow. He shrugs but stays seated.

"Be my guest," he says.

Ugh! Of course he would! Fine.

She walks towards him, knees knocking together as she tries to wiggle forward, then meets his knees and is forced to turn until her back is to him. A flush creeps up her face when she realizes that her rear is right in front of his face, wiggling in a really, really uncomfortable way as she squeezes her knees past his. It only takes two long pushes, one for each of his knees, before she's standing in the aisle with a clenched jaw, shoving her extremely expensive bag unceremoniously into the crammed space above head, next to a black leather duffel bag and slamming down on the latch. Then she's struggling right back through, this time facing the man because she refuses to give him a look at her ass, except the low overhead forces her to crouch forward and she's brought rather uncomfortably close to him. He simply leans back in his seat and watches her, his eyes traveling from one side to the other as he tracks her eyes on him.

She rushes into her seat and buckles herself up. The attendant that had been keeping an eye on them from the front of the airplane finally gets on the line with the pilot and gives the green light. Rey glowers out the window. The captain finally comes on.

 _"Good morning, everyone! Thank you for your patience. It is now 8:20 on a beautiful sunny day and we are ready to get you all to Dublin. We hope you enjoy your flight."_

Rey sags against her seat, making herself small. Eight twenty. She'd delayed the flight twenty minutes. She steals a glance at the man sitting next to her. No wonder he was pissy. Still, if he hadn't blocked her access to the aisle she would have been back in her seat a whole lot faster. Another glower nearly escapes her when she notices his eyes on her, a petulant brow raised in a silent question.

Rey bites the inside of her cheek, then takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," she offers reluctantly, tone harder than she intended, "about the delay, I mean. I got…caught up with something."

It was the wrong thing to say, apparently. He sneers, giving her a once over.

"Obviously," he drawls, before slamming his head back on his headrest and staring right ahead, pointedly ignoring her.

Rey does glare then. What an absolute—

She forgets all about it in a hot moment because the engines start roaring to a high and she feels the pull of gravity on her belly button as the airplane starts rolling forward, then lurching, and tipping up. She hates flying. Rey closes her eyes tightly and clutches at the arm of her seat, the other hand fisted on her lap and she concentrates on breathing through her nose, then out through her mouth. Her ears pop.

Higher, higher, higher, and her body sinks into her seat as the earth tries to pull her back down, and her stomach does a little lurch that pulls a half swallowed groan from her. Had she kept her eyes open, she would have noticed the broad chested raven haired man next to her giving her an odd look, but she was too busy trying to keep herself from potentially puking, and then—

The airplane is leveling off. Rey takes a deep, shaky breath, and clamps her mouth shut.

There's a nudge to her thigh. She keeps her eyes screwed shut. Another nudge.

"Hey," comes the deep rumble from her side. Rey opens one eye, daring to look. Thankfully the airplane is finally settling comfortably into the air. When she looks down there's a little plastic bottle with a twist off being held under her nose. She opens her other eye and frowns.

"Dramamine," Jerkface explains, "it'll settle the motion sickness."

Rey looks at him then back at the bottle, and takes it with shaky fingers. He could be poisoning her for all she knew, but the idea of settling motion sickness sounds like exactly what she needs. Rey gives the stranger a small nod and twists it open, and it really is dramamine because she's used to these pills. In her rush, she'd forgotten to buy some. As she's shaking one out of the container, Jerkface — though he's lost a degree of Jerk by offering her motion sickness pills — is motioning to an attendant. She leaves then comes rushing back, and he passes Rey a small water bottle.

Rey takes it, pops the pill and unscrews the bottle as quickly as her fingers can work, taking a deep swallow and letting the bitter aftertaste wash down.

She turns to the tall man by her side.

"Uhm, thank you, mister…?"

"Ren," he replies, taking the small container of dramamine from her hand, his fingers gigantic against her own. "And no need to thank me. I don't particularly enjoy getting vomited on."

A few of the passengers are still quietly watching them and Rey's eyes narrow.

 _Are you kidding me?_

"Oh my God, fine," she mumbles to herself, settling back in her chair, "Heaven forbid you have a decent bone in your body when addressing a stranger."

He turns to her then, dark, thick brows arching until they're almost at the hairline of his luscious locks.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing."

"No, no, please. I think I misheard you."

Rey glowers at him, feeling like that's all she's been doing the last fifteen minutes she's been on this flight.

"Drop it," she hisses, narrowing her eyes at him.

He gives her a long look, pegging her in her seat with golden brown eyes that are entirely unreadable. They unsettles her, those eyes. They're the eyes of a man who's used to people knowing that they shouldn't mess with him, and Rey finally takes a moment to take him all in. Tall, broad shouldered, a brooding set to his wide, pouty lips. His jaw pops as he clenches and unclenches, seemingly rolling his tongue in his mouth to keep from saying anything.

He takes a long, slow half blink that hood his eyes before opening them again, then he directs his gaze ahead of him, promptly ignoring her. That suits Rey just fine.

They sit like this in silence until the carts start coming around about two hours later. Rey's eyes pop up, her stomach positively growling at the idea of food. She hasn't had anything since dinner the previous night at around four in the afternoon, and her stomach clenches in protest. Jerkface looks at her. _Ren._ His name was Ren.

"Would you like anything?" he asks, and she frowns.

"Hmm?" she lets out as a non-answer, and he rolls his eyes.

"Would you like anything?" he repeats, as if she were stupid or deaf.

She nods and he calls the lady with a flick of a wrist, and a short, lithe little brunette pushes a giant cart up to them.

"Peanuts and some sparkling water for me, please. And she will have—" he turns to her, arching an eyebrow.

"Pretzels, please. And ginger ale," she says then turns around and—

Her wallet's in the damn bag. Rey purses her lips, checking her seat twice, before looking up at the cart lady apologetically. She's starting to hate the fact that she picked a window seat. She's basically boxed in.

"You know what, never—"

Ren interrupts her, holding up a hand as he realizes why she's suddenly declining. He digs his wallet out of his back pocket and offers up enough to cover her purchase and his. The cart lady gives Ren a dazzling smile, taking her sweet time with retrieving the twenty dollar bill from his hand and Rey watches in fascination as she purposely brushes his fingers, and his face goes stony, but then there's that line between being flirty and being creepy and the attendant is forced to pull her hand away. He immediately drops his, holding it out low to accept a bag of peanuts and a bag of pretzels while the attendant fishes around for their drinks.

He turns to her and passes her the pretzel bag, careful not to touch her. She gladly accepts, eyes on the woman by the cart as she pulls out two drinks sweaty with condensation. Ren takes both and passes Rey her drink, immediately ignoring the attendant after telling her to keep the change.

Rey looks at her offered food and bites her lip. She should say something. He had been nothing but rude the whole time, but her motion sickness had abated thanks to him, and he'd paid for her snack when he had had no reason to.

"Thank you," she offers. He nods, cracking open his bottle and taking a silent gulp. Rey takes in a deep breath. "I'm Rey, by the way."

Ren nods again, still stonily silent as he cracks open his bag of peanuts. She rolls her eyes, though he can't see it, and busies herself with her bag of pretzels. They sit in silence for a long time as they eat, and when her bag empties she stares at the it forlornly, shaking the last crumbs out into her mouth. Her stomach protests.

Then a second bag is being shoved under her nose.

Peanuts.

What the heck?

"Oh, uh, I— no, thank you," she turns down the offering as kindly as she can afford to. He'd already given her enough. Ren frowns, and Rey amends quickly. "I'm fine, I promise. Please, don't let me take your food."

He arches an eyebrow. "You're full already?"

No. No she isn't full. She's starving, as a matter of fact, and the absurdity of his comment makes her laugh. Who gets full on a bag of pretzels.

She purposely rolls her eyes, making sure he sees it this time.

"No, not at all. Peanuts are just too large for me." She pats her stomach.

The man before her frowns a little, then a small smirk slowly unfurls on his lips, and he's giving her another once over.

"Makes sense, you're about the size of one."

Rey's eyes widen a little. Did he ever not have a comeback? Despite herself, she giggles. The tension that had been clouded over them ebbs a fraction, and she leans back into her seat.

"Thank you, though, for paying. I'll get you money as soon as I can get to my bag."

"Don't worry about it."

"Oh, okay. Well. Thank you." She fidgets with the metallic wrapper of her empty pretzel bag, deciding that the least she could do was to make an attempt at being friendly for his kindness.

"So, what puts you on this plane to Ireland?"

 _Aaaand the tension's back._

His smirk drops and his face goes stiff. Rey almost curses. He'd been decent for like a second and she had to go open her big mouth, and by the way he's looking at her, he obviously doesn't want to talk about it. Why had her seat been next to _this guy_ of all people?

Rey bites at her lip. She gives him a sidelong glance but he's making slow work of fishing out his ear buds, jamming them back into his ears, and closing his eyes. Just like she'd found him at the airport at five in the morning. When she looks at the screen far ahead in front of them the time reads five hours to landing.

Rey closes her eyes, burrowing into her seat against the chill of the recycled airplane air with a sigh. If she has to be stuck in this seat, she'll at least try and get some sleep. She'd only caught like three hours on a hard seat in the airport, and her bones were letting her know. She ached everywhere, and her mind was starting to feel foggy.

If she slept the five hours away, she wouldn't have to talk to Mr. Jerkface Ren the rest of the flight, or, rather, sit there awkwardly decidedly nottalking to Mr. Jerkface Ren.

Sleep slowly takes her.

Her dreams slowly start drifting home, to Finn, to their last dinner together, to the golden light and the laughter, and she's so happy in that moment. Jessika's making everyone laugh, and Finn is cackling, and Poe is talking—

 _"Man, I can't imagine how hard it is to have— ladies and gentlemen, we are experiencing some —running around making— turbulence—"_

What?

Dream Rey frowns at Poe. That makes absolutely zero sense. She asks as much.

Then Poe's face is changing… his chin becomes narrower, his face widens lightly, his cheekbones move up. His nose, always so regal, becomes long, and his lips take a petulant downturn. His hair starts growing at immense speed—

Rey's seat rocks so hard that she yelps, startled out of her dream. Her head whips around to reorient herself, still thinking 'what the fuck' at dream Poe, when she notices long features, a petulant set of lips, and long black hair belonging to the man sitting next to her. And everywhere around her people are gripping their seats.

 _"Ladies and gentlemen, please remain in your seats and double check that your belt is tightened. We are experiencing hard turbulence. We will keep you updated of any changes. Just take a deep breath and hang in there, everything will be fine."_

Her eyes widen.

Turbulence?

This. This is why Rey _hates_ flying. She quickly checks her belt as the airplane rattles, and the sound of shifting luggage above her head makes her hunch her shoulders in.

She hates flying.

 _Hates_ flying.

She thinks she must have started visibly hyperventilating because Ren's words float to her ears.

"It'll be fine. It's just turbulence," he says. He doesn't look bothered at all.

Rey swallows.

It goes on for another ten minutes and then the copilot is back on the line.

 _"I am very sorry folks, but it seems we're headed for a major set of storm systems. Unfortunately, we cannot go around them. We are preparing to make an emergency landing. Please make sure your belt is tightened securely. Should you need oxygen, masks will be dropping shortly. Make sure to secure your own mask first before aiding your neighbor. Attendants will be going around collecting any items that could become airborne immediately. We will be landing in Cork, on the southern tip of Ireland for the night. Please stand by."_

Rey stares at Ren. His jaw goes stiff.

…

 _What?_


	4. Chapter 4: Keys

He'd taken pity on the girl. That had been his first mistake. His second mistake had been acting like a brooding jerk every time he opened his mouth, but that was his modus operandi any given day of the week.

The plane rattles around them and all he can see is a pair of wide, wild hazel eyes, and what he'd thought had been a smudge of dirt the night before under his ray bans turns out to be a spread of freckles that had looked a little too endearing when she'd scrunched her nose and laughed. Yet he'd never seen such a visceral reaction to turbulence, and so he takes pity on the girl.

But this is only the latest in a long list of screw ups and attempts at making things better.

She'd arrived late, and he'd been perhaps a little too intense over it, he can admit to himself now, so when she looked about to blush out of her seat at the flight attendant hollering for her attention, he'd taken pity on the girl and offered to move her bag for her, even if he'd also gotten a bit of sick self satisfaction at the way she'd glared at him.

"No , thank you," she'd spat into his face.

So, of course, Kylo had stubbornly dug in his heels, because not only was she a spoiled princess but she also had an attitude on her.

"Be my guest," he'd smarmed, and purposely kept his knees almost to the back of the seat in front of him.

He _knew_ he was being a monumental hypocrite, punishing her for being late while purposely delaying the flight further by being uncooperative. He knew that. It still didn't stop him from sitting back, lacing his fingers on his stomach, and watching as she made her way up to him. Mistake number two. It had come back to bite him in the ass when she'd turned to wiggle past, the back of her legs squeezing against his kneecaps and her hips swaying right in front of his face in a way that made it hard to concentrate. Kylo had glued his line of vision to her back instead, looking for any safe place to land his eyes on, except her sundress had an open back and he'd gotten an eyeful of taut muscle and clear, tan, soft looking skin under silky slippery fabric. Kylo's nostrils had flared against his will, and so he'd forced his eyes to travel further up to the back of her head, only to get a peek of a long, exposed neck under auburn locks of hair.

He'd cursed under his breath, but it was too late to stop now. He'd made his bed in this chair. He'd sit in it and deal with it. The girl had finally squeezed past and shoved her bag into the above compartment with more force than he had imagined she possessed, giving him one angry look before working up the nerve to squeeze past him again. This time he'd locked his eyes on hers, refusing to look anywhere else as she squeezed past him. Except she'd had to lurch forward to avoid hitting her head, and he got a good look at the cascade of freckles on her face, the doe-eyed hazel eyes that were looking at him suspiciously the whole time, refusing to look away first.

It had happened in the blink of an eye, and left him breathing in deep through his nose, but then it only went downhill from there when she'd opened her mouth and an apology had tumbled out of her. His brows rose, and he'd looked at her, up until she'd mentioned getting caught up with something. His knee-jerk reaction had been to give her a once over and, once again, be a total jackass.

He wasn't sure what it was about this girl that just kept getting under his skin and forcing him to rise to the bait. His life had been one of keeping his emotions close to his chest. He _dealt_ in being emotionless in front of a court. His day to day interactions had been built on a carefully cultivated sense of superiority that he had cloaked in silence when dealing with other people. And yet in a matter of six hours, this little slip of a girl had constantly pushed him to react, bringing him down to a level he hadn't been in since he was sixteen, starting with her witty comeback when he'd tried to brush her off at the airport. It had taken him aback, the speed with which she retorted to his witticism.

But then the airplane had taken off and she had looked like she was about to be ill, and he'd taken pity on her once more. He'd pulled out the little container of motion-sickness pills he kept with him and passed it to her, calling down a flight attendant for water. And she'd attempted civility once more with him and he'd once again opened his big mouth and muttered something about vomit, and the cycle of snark was renewed.

"Oh my god _fine_ ," she'd mumbled, and he'd only picked up on it because of years of having to listen to people mumble their way through a confession. "Heaven forbid you have a decent bone in your body when addressing a complete stranger."

How dared she?

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing."

"No, no, please. I think I misheard you."

"Drop it."

So he had. Against his better judgement, he'd listened to the young woman and decided to drop it, partly because it was a stupid argument to get tangled in when he'd been called far worse in life, and mostly because the whole thing had been his fault to begin with. The next incident happens two hours later, and so he tries _again_ to set things right with this strange girl he doesn't even know once the food carts come around. She'd been staring off into space, her mind far away from this plane, when the lady had asked him if he wanted anything. So he'd asked her the same. Her stomach had growled so loudly he'd practically heard it beat like a drum.

Everything was going well and dandy when he noticed her fussing for her wallet. Her wallet that was… in her travel bag. Kylo had nearly bitten his lip. Seriously, could she be _any_ more of a walking train-wreck? She was as helpless as a baby. So he'd covered her snack and decided that made them even. Until her stomach growled again.

The rest is quickly becoming a blur in his mind as he watches her try to breathe in through her nose, out through her mouth, and failing miserably.

The airplane rocks around them, jolting hard enough to whip his head back and slam it into his seat. He groans, but the whimper coming from her is kind of hard to ignore even with the constant rattling noises overhead. Around him he can hear people start to pray, as if praying will do them any good against a plane falling from this altitude, and the child in first class has started to wail, but his eyes are glued to the little woman two seats from him who's looking terrified out of her wits.

The plane is starting to quickly lose altitude, trying to get to ground as fast as humanly possible. The oxygen masks drop. She doesn't notice, even when one of them falls right in front of her face. Kylo purses his lips as he hears the flight attendants reminding everyone to please assist themselves first before assisting their neighbors. The young woman looks about to faint from lack of oxygen.

With a curse he unbuckles his seat and quickly rises, flopping into the one next to Rey — Or at least, he thinks she'd said her name was Rey — ignoring the screeches from one of the flight attendants for him to get back in his seat and _buckle up right now_. Kylo grabs for the oxygen mask in front of her and fumbles with the straps, cursing the whole time as her face starts turning pale, and it takes too long but finally he's managed to secure it around her.

"Breathe," he orders, using his lawyer's voice, the one he's used so many times on hysterical clients. When she makes no move to take a gulp of air, he makes a show of taking in a big drag of air through his nose. "Come on, _breathe_."

The flight attendants are all buckling themselves into their seats, one of them still screaming at him. There's a bounce hard enough to send him up from his seat and his head hits the overhead lights. He falls down hard with a curse, seeing stars, and finally has the sense to buckle himself in, but his attention turns back to Rey.

She's looking at him through slightly disoriented eyes but he can finally see the puff of breath fogging the inside of the mask. She's breathing.

"Good girl," he commends, making sure she's buckled in tightly, then checking his own buckle once more as the plane keeps shaking and lifting, then dropping, at nearly alarming rates. They both close their eyes and wait out the storm until landing.

* * *

The landing sucking is the understatement of the year. There are a few squeaks and screams as the wheels finally touch down, and it takes longer than usual for the airplane to skid to a full stop because the runways are slick, but finally, _finally_ , they come to a screeching hault. Rey seems to have regained her bearings, though she's breathing hard.

There's a beep.

 _"This is your captain. We made it, folks! We will be staying in town overnight and resume our flight once the storms have abated, which is expected to be tomorrow evening. The airline has arranged accommodations for all of you and a bus will be waiting to usher you to the hotel. Please wrap up tightly! It's cold and rainy out there."_

Kylo looks out the window past the woman — Rey, he reminds himself — only to see that, sure enough, it's pouring like the skies opened up and hell let loose. And they were on a runway meant for passengers to _walk_ up to the plane.

Of course.

He feels more than sees Rey follow behind him, squeezing herself through tight spaces frantically to get to her bag, then taking impatient half steps all the way from where they'd sat to the door of the plane. There's a high wind pushing, making a hollow tunnel sound as it flies into the plane and meets resistance, and Kylo purses his lips when he sees the absolute shit storm waiting outside for him to step into.

"Welcome to Ireland!" the flight attendant who had manned the food cart says to him with a bright, if apologetic, smile. The sides of her hair are damp from standing by the door next to the rain, and he feels just a little bit of pity for the woman as well. Her job is absolute crap. So he gives her a nod and it earns him yet another dazzling smile.

Kylo turns up the collar of his jacket up against the wind and steps down onto the tarmac. It takes him exactly thirty seconds to get drenched. The door to the dry safety of the airport is still another thirty seconds away.

A flash of coral dress zooms past him.

He's just making it inside when people start pushing him from behind, trying to get past his tall, wide body to safety as well. He grunts and uses his bulk to immediately shoulder his way to an empty corner. One of the few benefits of being over six feet tall and wide-shouldered. His jacket had caught most of the rain and his t-shirt's practically plastered to his chest. He pries the fabric away from his skin and gives it a shake, water droplets flying, then takes off his jacket and does the same. Thankfully the jacket kept the rest of his torso warm.

"Hey, mind doing that in _that_ direction?" comes a little voice that's quickly starting to become familiar. The girl named Rey apparently had had the same idea as he. He looks up and finds her looking like a little wet duckling in coral in front of him. She'd had no jacket, and her dress provided literally no coverage against the rain. Her hair's plastered to her neck and temples and her arms and legs are dripping, and she's trying unsuccessfully to wring water out of her skirts with shaky fingers. He turns to the left in the direction she pointed and quietly continues shaking out his wet clothes.

He hears her mumbling about stupid rain and smirks.

"It's not usually like this," he pipes in.

She looks up at him with raised brows.

"Oh?"

"Usually it's fairly mild. We just got unlucky."

He watches the stream of water pattering to the floor in front of her little shoes. By god, she's tiny.

"Story of my life," she grumbles, wringing out her hair next.

The smirk comes back and he stamps it down. He'd been doing that a little too often. They busy themselves with trying to get as much water off of themselves as they can, when a man walks in and informs everyone that buses are arriving to take them to their hotel, courtesy of Delta airlines. Everyone starts shuffling back out, right back into the rain.

The bus is stuffy with the smell of forty passengers all damp and quickly heating up. Kylo squeezes himself next to an old man who's already fallen asleep on his seat, trying his best to keep his knees from pushing out into the people cramming into the bus. Why were these damn seats never made for tall people? He grunts and plops his bag on his lap, watching the throng of people piling in. His eyes land on a coral floral dress, and he can't help but trail her as she makes her way towards a seat one row ahead, opposite him, next to a tall redheaded guy that, from this angle, could easily pass off as Hux. He scowls instinctively and looks away, refusing to let a stranger's vague semblance to his ex coworker rile him into a fury.

Soon enough the bus is rumbling along. Water flows in sheets down the sides of the bus, clattering on the bus-top, and there's absolutely no visibility out the windows. Thankfully the noise drowns out most of the conversations in the cramped space to a low hum; he allows himself to space out, eyes on the grayish blue of rained-on windows—

 _"What the fuck are you doing?" the words had escaped from his mouth before he could help himself. Katherine's eyes had flown up to meet his, along with Hux's. Caught red handed._

 _"Really, Ren, it's not what it looks like," the redhead had spoken. "We can talk about it. Phasma and I were just—"_

 _What happened next had become a blur. Kylo's fist had connected with a perfectly royal, pale nose._

 _"Kylo!" Phasma's voice had rung, loud and bell like, above the buzzing sound of anger ringing in his ears as he shook out his fist. Decking someone was never as grandiose as they made it look in the movies. For one, it hurt like hell._

—Another bell like voice breaks into his reverie.

"Uhm, I'm Rey," a voice floats in the stale bus air to his ears from a few seats ahead on the opposite side of the aisle. The bus jolts, having hit a particularly deep pothole, and he hears the bus driver cursing. Visibility was rather pathetic and he'd missed the hole entirely.

Kylo, however, isn't thinking about the pothole. His ears have trained in on the bell-like voice involuntarily, and by extension, on the person she was talking to. He sneers at the back of the redhead's crown of hair without realizing it, and stops himself mid grumble.

"Well what's a beautiful Ray of Sunshine like you doing here in this wet puddle of a country?" the other man asks, and Kylo snorts at the horrible pick-up line. _So original_. Rey doesn't seem to have appreciated the cheesy move either as her shoulders stiffen.

Kylo can't see her face but he imagines the grimace there.

"I have something to do in Dublin," she replies non-committally, all jerky words and squared shoulders.

The redhead dismisses this out of hand, immediately going on a long drawn out speech meant to woo Rey even though she's obviously uncomfortable next to him, somehow managing to do so without drawing air between sentences. Kylo catches a few chosen words before drowning them out, but his attention's immediately snatched again when he hears Rey's answer to the man's attempt at playfulness as he remarks on her being so silent.

"Well, you seem to be doing such a good job at talking for the both of us, really. It would have been rude of me to interrupt."

Kylo smiles despite himself. She really _did_ have whip-quick wit. Her companion lets out an obnoxious laugh that Kylo can read all the way from here, more embarrassment at being outwitted by the young woman sitting next to him than any true amusement at her words. Someone needs to teach that man how to properly flirt.

He rolls his eyes and settles them back out the rainy window, drumming his fingers on his wet jeans. His hair is damp against his neck and the rising sticky heat in the bus is already making this whole experience worse, as if the universe had accepted the challenge to make his life miserable. A stocky man's stomach threatens to press into Kylo's face as the bus sways. He clenches his jaw and starts counting back from one hundred, waiting out the rest of the bus ride.

When they finally arrive at the hotel he basically bolts out of the tiny cramped bus, thanking the skies that it's blessedly dry inside, wondering if, _finally_ , this trip would stop absolutely sucking. But things never go the way he wants them to. He'd learned that lesson when he had been sixteen years old, and had been reminded every day since. No, things never would go the way he wants.

When he looks towards the counter, a small boy (well, tall, but certainly not by Kylo's standards) stands behind the counter pushing up a set of rounded glasses on a large, greasy nose. The kid could barely be out of teenagehood.

"What's your name?" comes the voice of the young man at the desk as he shoulders his way forward. Everyone's milling about, wanting to just get to their rooms and get some rest.

"Kylo Ren," he speaks.

"Rey Jakken," comes a bell like voice with a british accent at the same time.

Kylo's head whips around to find her standing a foot away, apparently oblivious to his presence until that moment. Her head turns, slowly, carefully, and gives him a startled look.

His lip stiffens to keep the sigh bubbling up his throat from escaping.

Fine. He'd be a gentleman. He'd let her go first. He makes to step aside so she can walk up to the counter, and she shoots him a thankful if wary glance when the young man behind the counter speaks up again—

"Oh wonderful, you're both here. That actually makes my life so much easier."

Rey arches an eyebrow and Kylo frowns, his eyes snapping to the boy, quickly glancing at the nametag: Albert. Albert's adam's apple immediately starts bobbing up and down rapidly as he takes in a rather wet, irritable Kylo Ren.

"Uh— I mean, my apologies—" Albert stammers, and the girl by his side immediately interjects while shooting Kylo a death glare. Kylo hadn't even _spoken_ yet somehow this was _his_ fault?

"It's alright, uh—" she looks at the boy's name tag as well, "Albert. It's fine. What do you mean by we're _both_ here?"

Albert, who seems far more excited to deal with a pretty young woman, who looks far friendlier than Kylo, immediately turns his attention to her and offers a sheepish smile. The boy can't be older than nineteen, and the flush creeping up his neck would be adorable if not for the fact that Kylo's patience is starting to wobble dangerously on the thread-thin leash he kept on it.

"Well, the airline decided to make it easier for everyone by pairing people with whomever they sat next—..to…" he says, bringing his little green eyes to meet Kylo, sizing him up again. "Because people usually..travel in..p-pairs."

"You have got to be _kidding_ _me_ ," he hears Rey hiss.

No shit.

 _Breathe, Kylo. Breathe,_ he reminds himself. _Remember the silver linings._

But he couldn't remember the silver linings, not when this trip was already turning from ridiculous to insane, and the universe had somehow just decided to stick him with this girl for the duration of it. He's about to start making demands in a very colorful manner when Rey beats him to the punch.

"What do you mean, _together_? Why didn't they bother to ask us? Didn't they consider that I don't even _know_ this man?!" she hisses, leaning over the counter until she's eye-level with Albert. " _Find_ another room."

Kylo sucks in a breath. Ungrateful brat. He'd just basically saved her life on that plane and she's dismissing him so easily.

Still… she had a point.

Albert turns pale and starts stammering. Kylo guesses he hadn't expected Rey to have a mean edge in her little body.

"I— I'm sorry, M-Ma'am, I'm just passing the message along—"

Kylo pushes against the counter next to Rey until she has to look up at him and take a small half-step aside with a huff to avoid being jostled, but at least on this she's on his side. She glares at Albert. Kylo finally manages to rein himself in.

"You heard her. Find another room. Now." He demands.

"I'm sorry s-sir.. But we're all booked. The st-storms, you see.. All flights out are grounded…" Albert looks about ready to shit his pants.

"Any other hotels? Branches?" he asks, carefully wording his questions and keeping the edge away as his hand fists around the strap of his duffel bag.

"N-no, sir, I'm sorry…"

If he heard one more ' _sorry_ ' uttered, Kylo would lose his mind. He hears the girl next to him let out a pained, angry sigh, then Rey is piping in again and sticking her hand towards Albert.

"Fine. _Fine_. It's just one night. What's the room?" she clips, twitching her fingers in demand that the keys be handed over. Albert sags in relief, grateful that he doesn't have to deal with this any longer, then starts fumbling for two magnetized key cards. He nearly drops them when his eyes catch on Kylo's face.

The little pimple faced man drops the keys into their hands, or…rather, hands one to Rey and shoves the other towards him on the counter, before removing his hand and moving a few safe paces away.

Kylo grabs it and stares down at it, brows furrowed, then looks up just long enough to watch a damp girl in a coral dress turning robotically towards him. He arches an eyebrow at her, because, _really_. And despite knowing that instigating her now would only make his life more difficult if he had to share a room with the slip of a girl, he opens his big mouth.

"Shall we?"

Rey looks down at her key, then up at him. She shoots him a glare and stalks away, her little feet clicking on the floors at an angry pace.

He could leave. Seriously considers it. He could go find another hotel. He considers the consequences of just straight up buying a hotel, then remembers he'd dropped a ridiculous amount of money into an apartment he wouldn't be seeing any time soon. Kylo hoists his duffel bag with a sigh, then starts down the lobby after her.

It _had_ to be her. The girl he'd purposely gone out of his way to insult. Repeatedly.

Of _course_ it had to be her, like some sick cosmic joke. He bites back a curse. He's being punished for something. He just doesn't know what for yet.

* * *

 **What did you think? Please review!**

 **Author's note:** In a twist of fate that surprises literally no one, these two are still stuck together ;)


	5. Chapter 5: Sealant

This had to be some sick joke.

It had to be.

Rey stomps towards the room number marked on her card at a fast clip, cursing literally _everything_ in the world in that moment. The dampness of her dress clings to her skin, trying to chafe as she takes hurried steps down the hall. She's starving, crabby, and the headache blooming at her temple kept throbbing with every crisp click of steps behind her. Rey sighs.

She tries to focus on the passing numbers of rooms but her mind's elsewhere. One day. This would only take one day, then she'd be out of that room and on a connecting flight to Dublin, and she'd see Finn and everything would be alright again. She just has to make it through the night sharing a hotel room with a perfect stranger.

She nearly walks past their door when she hears a throat clearing behind her that stops her in her tracks. Her eyes flutter closed for a second. Of course. She takes a deep breath and turns around by degrees, card clutched in her hand.

"Let me guess, 305?" She asks, glancing at the man before her. His eyes land on the door, forcing hers to follow. 305.

"The one and only," he replies with a small smirk. Irritating, loathsome man. Why couldn't she just have ended up sitting next to one of the nice ladies she'd seen on the plane? No, it had to be this man.

Then again, it could have been worse. She could be stuck in a room with the over-sharing, over-eager ginger from the bus for the night. At least _this_ man hadn't spent a forty five minute bus ride hitting on her. Rey takes a small breath and walks forward. He doesn't move, forcing Rey to come uncomfortably close in order to be able to reach the access box. She looks up at him and arches an eyebrow.

"Do you mind?"

The man — _Ren_ , she remembers — takes a step back and hefts up his duffel bag.

"Not at all, please."

Rey huffs but punches the card in until the light beeps green, then shoves the heavy wooden door and steps inside, resolutely ignoring the man following closely behind her.

The room is small and hasn't been redecorated in what must be at least twenty years, going by the pattern of the wallpaper, but thankfully there are two beds. She nearly sags. Sharing a bed would have just been the proverbial cherry on top of the scoop of shit life had served her over the last twenty four hours. She stalks to the bed closest to the wide windows currently giving her a perfect view of the roaring storms outside, and plops her stupidly expensive bag on it. It's damp and a little saggy, and she can still see a couple of droplets along the seams.

"You should dry that," the voice that floats from behind her is deep and low, like the soft growl and rumble of thunder before a storm. Rey looks over her shoulder and arches an eyebrow.

"I'm more worried with drying myself first," she snarks, immediately backtracking and opening the small door to the right side of the exit. She flips the switch. The small bathroom is all white, typical of motels and hotels everywhere. White towels, white sink, white toilet and shower-tub combo and curtains and little deluxe size samples of soap and shampoo. It feels a little like walking into a reverse void. She grabs a towel from the metal rack - the only thing not white other than the rim of the mirror over the sink - and immediately starts drying her hair.

She has to admit it's nice to be inside for once, even if in bad company. She closes the door and takes her dress off, wringing what little moisture is left in it, and sets it over the shower curtain to air dry. So much for a beautiful dress to impress Finn with. She gives the rumpled dress a pained look. She'd have to find a way to press it before she met up with him. There's only one more large towel hanging from the metal rod. Rey nibbles at her lip. It would be awful rude of her to take it and get it damp as well, leaving her unfortunate choice in companion with nothing. She takes the towel she'd dried her hair with and quickly wraps it around her body, pursing her lips. She'd have to go back out there in order to get clothes.

Rey gives the damp dress another look, hating the idea of getting back into it after her skin had finally stopped feeling like wet paper towels. She counts to ten, takes a deep breath, then shoves the door open.

What greets her makes her nearly drop her towel and screech.

"What are you doing with my bag?!"

Oops. So much for not screeching.

The man — _Ren_ , she reminds herself — has her bag between his legs and is in the process of rubbing it down. What sort of absolute wierdo—

"I told you to dry it," he looks up at her and arches a petulant eyebrow.

He has a little piece of fabric in his hands and what look like a tin of ointment sitting on his lap, and upon closer inspection she notices that her bag's not only dry but a little shiny. He'd been oiling it down.

"Moisture sealant," he explains, holding up the little rag in his hands then pointing at his own leather duffel bag.

His is already sitting on the floor, looking pristine and blessedly dry. When he returns to her bag, he fingers the damp, unreadable price tag still dangling from the side of the bag and tilts his head. Not bothering to try and read the tag, he looks at her, his brows furrowed as if he's looking at something or someone he doesn't quite understand.

"Or do you mean to tell me you paid over two thousand dollars for a bag only to let it get ruined by rain?" he asks, his head still tilted slightly. Rey purses her lips.

She stomps over to him, determined to yank the bag out of his hand, then hesitates. He knows what he's doing. She doesn't. They stand there for a moment, him sitting at the edge of his bed with her bag on his lap, her standing smack dab between his long knees, staring at his hands.

"I needed a bag," she explains, trying to keep the edge out of her voice. She fails.

Ren arches an eyebrow at her.

"So you went with a two thousand dollar bag?" He asks, incredulous, and Rey shoots him a glare.

"You don't have to remind me, okay?"

Ren shrugs, but his eyes are still pinned on hers as he lifts his hand once more to her in offering. "May I?"

For the second time, she hesitates. Every single one of her valuables is in that bag. Her wallet, her IDs, what little money she possesses right now. But looking at his own clothes and bag, the man's probably plenty well off, what could he do with her meager belongings?

She gives him a small nod and slowly backs away from his knees, going to the side of her bed and sitting down, towel clutched tight to her chest and eyes pinned on his hands.

They're so large, it occurs to her, as she watches them engulf the medium sized bag with ease, dabbing and rubbing sealant on the brown checkered leather with smooth, expert fingers. She notices how they don't seem to have a single callous on them. So, a man used to an easy life. It was obvious in the way he'd recognized her bag's worth.

"Uh…" Rey begins, sensing the stale air suspended quietly between them turning slightly tense the longer she stares, "Thank you."

Ren looks up at her and arches an eyebrow. She points towards the Louis Vuitton bag. He nods.

"Wouldn't want to have to replace it so quickly, now would we?" He asks with a small smirk. Rey frowns, then lets out a snort. _Replace_ it? She could barely replace the strap on it, at the prices she'd seen, much less the bag itself!

Then it hits her. He thinks that Rey thinks the bag is disposable, and why wouldn't he? She'd stalked towards the bathroom with a flippant remark about getting dry first when her bazillion dollar bag sat drenched and saggy on a cheap hotel room bed. Rey clamps her teeth on her lip and stares.

Presumptuous little—

She gets up and grabs the bag, yanking it from his hands. He'd already gone over all spots anyway. Ren's eyes lift curiously, slowly, and give her a hard once over.

Rey follows his gaze, down, down. Towards her bare arms, her bare legs, the hem of a towel that just barely reaches mid-thigh, parting at the corners because the towel's just a little too small. Instead of standing there and turn twenty shades of unflattering red under his gaze, she immediately turns about and drops the bag on her bed, undoing the zipper with a hard yank and fumbling about for some clothes.

She can still feel his eyes glued to her back, smack-dab between her bare shoulder blades, like an itch she can't quite get to in order to scratch it, but keeps her own trained on her clothes. Out come a pair of jeans, a cream shirt, and a new set of sports underwear she'd grabbed from a store at the airport. She ducks into the bathroom quickly, Ren's eyes trailing her the whole time even as she avoids making eye contact, and she lets out a deep breath when the door clicks shut behind her. She pushes the button to lock it.

Just in case.

Rey tosses her towel aside and strips, changing underwear as quickly as humanly possible to keep away the chilly bathroom air, and throwing on her jeans and shirt. A sigh of relief.

So blessedly warm and dry.

There's a small hairdryer clipped to the wall. Her fingers wrap around the handle and she yanks it out, staring at it, stalling for time. It doesn't look much different than the one at home, other than it's smaller. She presses the button and it whirs to life.

Twenty minutes later she's stepping out, composed and feeling good about herself, only to find Ren sitting exactly where she'd left him, looking up at her. Her step falters. Had he been waiting for her?

"Bathroom's open," she offers, tilting her head towards the open bathroom door. He nods once, but his brown eyes are still on her, slightly narrowed, cold and golden all at the same time. He says nothing, does nothing, just sits there and regards her like a bug.

It goes on for so long that she starts fidgeting, her fingers twitching around the hem of her shirt. Not because she's shy, but because she's never been stared at that way. Her first instinct is to throw her shoulders back and glare, but he seems entirely unperturbed by her attempts.

Finally, _finally_ , he takes in a deep breath and speaks.

"You're afraid of me," he murmurs.

Rey _does_ square her shoulders, then.

"I am absolutely not scared of you."

But her voice quivers a little, because the way he looks at her is intense and uncomfortable. Not intense and uncomfortable in the way Unkar Plutt had stared at her, or a million other men as long as she started showing signs of womanhood. No, this man's intensity was heavy, cold and considering, as if he could read her just from looking at her.

"Then why are you fidgeting?"

She forces her hands to stop, dropping them to her sides like dead weight. Rey says nothing. What else could she say to that? And perhaps saying nothing is the wrong thing to do because Ren's suddenly moving. Standing slowly, carefully, stretching out his long limbs as he takes methodical steps towards her. His voice drops an octave and his chin dips low as he curls forward, trying to bring himself to eye level with her, hands in pockets. He gives her a small smirk. It's predatory, and sends a dark shiver up her spine.

Her instincts tell her to run, to turn around and bolt out that door, but the golden flecks of his eyes have her pinned in place as he whispers.

"Is that why you locked the door, then? Because you're afraid? Afraid of the big bad wolf?" His chuckle is more rumble than laugh, deep chested as he leans forward until his breath is tickling the shell of her ear in a way that makes her own breath catch, and his voice turns into a sing-song, "Who's afraid of the big bad wolf? The big bad wolf. The big bad wolf? She's afraid of the big bad wolf…"

Then he pulls back so quickly it causes whiplash. He's standing to his full height, staring down at her with no trace of that smirk left, hands jammed in his pockets as he raises an eyebrow.

"I promise you there is nothing you have that I want, so you can calm down already. Alright, princess?"

He sidesteps then and walks into the bathroom in two long strides. Rey hears the bathroom door lock in mockery.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

 _Fuck_.

Nope. This would not do.

Rey slinks to her bed and takes her bag, shoving it into the small closet before grabbing her room key and wallet out of it and stalking out the room and down the hall, determined not to return to the room until absolutely necessary.

She stalks the halls of the hotel, watching as people from her flight walk in and out of small little rooms, all looking far happier and chipper than she feels. Rey grumbles. Of course. It would be just her suffering through this.

The hotel's not big, however, and soon enough she's back in the lobby. Albert's still at the desk. Rey stops, counts to ten to center herself, then takes a deep breath and plasters on a smile. She hadn't been the friendliest of people when she'd first arrived to the hotel, wet like a duck and with a flaring temper. Her headache's back and throbbing painfully behind her right eye, but she forces her shoulders to relax, turning on the charm for the teenager who's noticed her standing there and is giving her a wary glance.

"Albert," she greets, giving her thousand watt winning smile. Albert doesn't seem to be buying it. "You know, I'm sorry. I feel awful for how I reacted. It was rude of me…"

He seems to relax a little at that, giving her a tentative smile.

"I just, it's been a long flight, you see? All the way from New York, and I just... I'm stuck with this guy that I _really_ can't stand and.." Rey offers, knowing full well that her voice is starting to take a rant-y tone. "Would you be able to help me?"

Albert bites his cheek, giving side glances to see if anybody's watching her obvious attempt at bribing him with pretty eyes.

"Please? You seriously might be my last hope," she presses, putting on the most innocent look she can.

Seriously, of all the things she's had to do in her life, sweet talking a teenager was not one of the things she'd imagine would land on her list. But her only other option is to stay in the room with Ren, and that doesn't seem like such great idea at the moment. She stares at Albert and prays he'll take pity on her.

Albert bites at his lower lip, giving her an apologetic smile.

"Ma'am, I'm sure you're very nice and all…"

"Please?" she begs. Literally begs.

She had been begrudgingly accepting of the idea of sharing a room with a man she doesn't know if only it would mean getting to Finn the next evening, but after _that_ particular incident back there… she'd beg, murder and steal for a new room. Well, not quite, but… close.

Albert's lips press together in a tight line and he takes another look up and down the lobby, as if looking into room vacancies were not his job, one he's perfectly qualified and cleared to do. He turns towards his screen and starts typing in rapidly, and it feels like forever but she lets herself hope.

One room. Just one room.

"No, ma'am, I'm sorry. There's nothing."

Rey closes her eyes and groans inwardly.

"Isn't there anyone else I could switch with?" she asks, desperate.

Please, _please_ —

" No, ma'am. All keys have been distributed. We're full…" Rey's eyes meet Albert's as he dashes all of her hopes and dreams with that one sentence and she bites back an actual groan. He smiles apologetically again. "I really am sorry. That fellow didn't look very friendly."

You have no idea, Pal.

Rey tries not to slump her shoulders as she nods at him, giving him another small smile before turning on her heel and walking away. She sits at a chair in front of a fireplace in the lobby, waiting out the hours, hoping that he's asleep once she returns. The lobby clears out quickly and only when the fireplace is turned off does she pry herself out of her seat.

The walk back feels like torture.

301…

…

She counts the doors, slowing her steps the closer she gets, but there's only so many steps between door three hundred and one and door three hundred and five. She stops in front of the door, gently pressing her ear to it and hoping for silence.

The TV's on. She can hear the voice of a weather channel man informing the viewing public about the severity of the storm, and how it might extend longer than expected. Rey curses quietly.

He's awake. He's awake and the weatherman's saying the storm might be extended. She pulls herself away from the door carefully, making sure not to accidentally ram into it with her foot or something, and stands there turning her access key in her palm.

She could sleep in the lobby. The couches hadn't looked that uncomfortable, and she'd slept on worse before.

She nearly turns around to go back when she remembers that her PJs — Finn's old t-shirt and her sweatpants — were in her bag.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

 _Fuck_.

Rey takes a deep breath, turns back around, and shoves her key into the box. It beeps green. Her hand wraps around the handle and she hesitates just a second before turning it and pushing against the door.

Ren is inside, already changed into black sweatpants and a charcoal grey t-shirt that clings to muscles she hadn't noticed before as he leans back against the headboard of his bed, ankles crossed. His hair's still slightly damp, falling in soft waves around his forehead and temples, his earlobes peeking from underneath the gentle curls.

Rey chews the inside of her cheek, and he carefully turns his head to look at her.

They stay like this for a moment, Rey with her hand still wrapped around the door handle, Ren with his fingers laced over his abdomen, breathing slowly.

Then Ren chuckles.

"Look who's back."

* * *

 **What did you think? Please leave a review! I'd love to hear from you.**

 **Author's note:** lol these two. I don't blame Rey for wanting to sleep in the lobby, do you? shortish chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it. Comments are the ambrosia that feed's the writer's soul. Thank you all who have left me a few lovely notes the last few chapters!


	6. Chapter 6: Landline

She leaves while he's still in the shower. He's done playing nice, he decides as he hears the door to the bedroom slam. He steps out and quickly grabs a towel, rubbing it through his hair and toweling off as quickly as possible before throwing on a pair of comfortable sweatpants and a grey charcoal t-shirt.

When he finally makes it out of the bathroom, hair still damp and exhaustion finally starting to sink into his bones, he gives the small room a once over and finds that she'd moved her bag. He rolls his eyes. He hadn't lied when he'd told her she had nothing he would want.

He had _tried_. He had _tried_ to be nice, taking her very expensive bag to save it from a horrible watery death by wiping off the moisture beading on the beautiful leather. After taking care of his own, he'd taken a rag and started sealing hers against water damage. He'd basically been an asshole to her for the majority of the thirteen hours or so they'd had contact with each other, and this was just one more attempt at doing the right thing, he'd told himself.

She hadn't appreciated it. Still, she'd allowed him to continue after he'd asked nicely and it had been going so well until, again, he'd opened his gigantic mouth. It seemed every time he spoke around her he said the wrong thing, and for a man who's used to saying the right thing _every time_ — whose livelihood _depends_ on saying the right thing at the right time, every time — he's starting to wonder if she's just a fabrication of the universe placed in his path so that he could suffer from cringe-worthy verbal diarrhea at every turn. It's like he couldn't open his mouth without it just falling out.

Kylo sighs, picking up the black TV remote and clicking the old television on. He flips through all the channels without much success. What little there is to watch is full of actors with such a heavy Irish accent he has to strain his ears to understand. His finger jams into the channel button, looking for anything to distract him, then finally he settles on the weather channel.

There. His mind flies back to the girl.

Rey. Her name is Rey. He'd have to remember that. It felt silly to be calling her ' _the girl_ ' when he'd be spending the rest of the night in the same room with her. Kylo worries at his lower lip, remembering her standing there in front of him in a towel. It had taken all his self control to keep his eyes from wandering the whole time she was there, until he had chanced a glimpse and his eyes had glued to her like a magnet calling forth metal. He sighs. He should apologize. He'd acted like the world's biggest idiot despite all his attempts at fixing it, and nothing fixes something as well as a simple apology. He looks at the corner of the TV for the time: 7:30PM. It's raining outside and there's very little to do in this little hotel. She'd be back soon enough, then he could apologize and they could just agree to stay out of each other's hair.

Kylo flops onto the bed and curls his fingers on his stomach, and settles in to wait, making a mental list of all the things he needed to say sorry for: the comment regarding the time at the airport, not moving for her in the plane, trying to pick a fight over a silly comment, talking about vomit when she looked sick — he cringes at that particular one — touching her stuff without being given permission to (even if he had saved her bag, after all); and the latest in the massive list of fuck-ups, ladies and gentlemen, the invasion of her personal space. He flinches harder through every accusation he directs at himself. He had a lot to apologize for.

So he waits for her to return, just so he can have a chance at setting the record straight.

And he waits.

And waits.

And waits.

The weather's on loop on the TV as the news anchors and weathermen update viewers on the status of the raging storm. Systems meeting at the most inopportune times, grounding all flights for the evening and early morning. Power lines down. Towns flooding. He looks at the clock in the corner of the TV.

Five minutes past midnight.

He frowns, the same part of him that had worried over her lack of oxygen on the plane immediately formulating ten different worst possible scenarios about her absence. He'd give her ten more minutes then go looking for her. He may not _like_ the chit, but she's still a young woman traveling alone, and nothing good could come of her randomly pulling a disappearing act.

The minutes tick by and his muscles are starting to tense as he prepares to swing his legs over the side of the bed and find his shoes.

Seven minutes past midnight.

Nine.

Twelve.

Then he hears the door over the sound of the television and lets out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. The door slowly swings open and Rey is standing at the threshold looking very unhappy to see him, hand wrapped tightly around the door handle, the other one clutching her room key. Despite himself, he lets out a relieved chuckle.

"Look who's back."

Rey tenses more than he thought it was humanly possible and Kylo bites back a curse. He should just swear himself to silence around her already and be done with it. Still, she hasn't moved a muscle and looks ready to bolt, so he sighs audibly and slowly rises from where he'd rested for hours, sitting on the edge of the bed and extending a hand to her to sit in the small desk chair opposite the beds.

"Please," he asks, trying to keep his talking to an absolute minimum.

She gives him a wary glance and remains standing by the door, and Kylo rubs his hand down his face then through his hair, mussed semi damp locks.

"Rey…"

She visibly flinches at her name on his lips and he swallows on empty air. His neck is starting to hurt from all the tension building up at the back of his skull.

"Please," he prompts again, this time moving farther away so that she has plenty of space to walk closer without coming anywhere near him. That seems to put her at ease, as she takes a step forward.

Her eyes are still locked on him, like a scared rabbit ready to hop away in a heartbeat, and he makes it a point to look as small and nonthreatening as he can. He's known for a long time that his height and body could look threatening. He'd used that to his advantage before. This time, he silently wishes he were smaller, slender, like Hux. Hux didn't seem threatening to most people. Oh, he _could be_ , there was no doubt about it, but only when he _wanted_ to. Kylo had been a mountain of a boy since the day his teenage hormones had kicked in. He opens his hands, palms up, and rests them on his knees where she can clearly see them at all times. Rey's eyes travel to his fingers then back up to his face.

"I only want to talk," he offers.

Rey's gaze narrows and they stay like this for an eternity, her judging him and him letting himself be judged — he certainly had plenty of things he could be judged for — before she gives a small nod that's more for her own benefit than his. Rey keeps her distance, taking the small desk chair gingerly.

He lowers his head and runs his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath before looking at her.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out. Rey blinks. This is not what she'd been expecting.

"We did not get off on the right foot earlier, and that was entirely my fault. I apologize."

"You were kind of an asshole," she admits, leaving Kylo to bite his tongue before letting out the first thing that came to his mouth.

 _Filter, Kylo. You have a filter. Use it._

"Yes," he admits, clasping his hands, elbows on knees and fingers laced together in front of him.

Rey nods, satisfied by his admission.

"At the airport, I shouldn't have been rude about the time," he continues, trying to address the first transgression in the giant list he'd made for himself.

"And the puke talk," she offers. Kylo cringes."And the not letting me get past the seat, which, really, what was that about? Couldn't you have just been a _little_ cooperative about—"

"That, too." He supplies.

"And getting in my face earlier, seriously?!" Her voice is rising and he can tell she's been bottling up her frustrations for a while. With good reason.

Kylo closes his eyes and nods, counting back from ten.

"And touching my things, which was _really_ inappropriate; you don't even _know_ me," she bites, and he finally opens his eyes up.

"I was trying to save your bag," he replies, shoulders tensing, because couldn't she just _let him_ get through an apology?

"Well, I didn't need you saving my bag, or saving anything, thank you very much. And even so, you could have asked like any other normal person on this planet would have—"

"You were in the shower!"

"So?! Couldn't it have waited until I was done?"

"No, unless you wanted to throw two thousand dollars down the drain."

Rey's upper lip stiffens and she glares at him.

"It's my two thousand dollars to drain—"

"Honestly, would you stop acting like a princess?"

The air turns sour _immediately_. That had been the absolute wrong thing to say. He seemed to be doing that so very often lately. Rey's voice comes out in a low hiss.

"Call me princess _one more time_ , you self-absorbed bastard. "

He stops then, leans back until he's sitting up straight. Takes a deep breath through the nose, then exhales quietly and tilts his head. He detaches himself from the situation and slips into Kylo Ren, Attorney at law, and examines her clinically.

She's angry, and so is he. She raises her voice and he raises his to match. She glares and he only glowers harder. She swings her arms and his fingers twitch. They're feeding off each other in a constant toxic loop.

Fuck the apology. He wouldn't play this game.

Rey fumes in front of him, tiny fists balled in her lap as she bunches her denim blue jeans into her fingers, chest heaving.

"Good night," he snips, getting up and returning to the other side of his bed. He reaches over and flicks off the lamp, leaving the room illuminated by the ghostly white glow of the television as the weatherman chatters on in the background. Rey stares at Kylo and he pointedly refuses to look at her.

He had tried to play nice, and if that's how she would handle his trying to apologize, then fine.

* * *

Somewhere around two in the morning he hears a grumble. Kylo has just managed to finally close his eyes, exhaustion slowly taking over his consciousness, when another gurgling, rumbling sound hits his ears. His eyes open. He slowly, carefully turns his head towards the source of the noise.

Rey's sheets are pulled up to her chest, arms resting over them, staring straight to the ceiling like a small little robot. Another gurgling sound.

He arches an eyebrow. As if on cue, his own stomach grumbles, and he remembers that they hadn't eaten a thing since the peanuts and pretzels aboard their flight, which feels like eons ago. He keeps watching her, and he knows she's wide awake but she refuses to turn her head to him, so he sighs.

He gets up and pads over silently to the small fridge, cracking it open. Empty. Kylo walks over to his bag and unzips it, the sound making a loud noise that jars his ears after such quiet. He digs for his wallet and pockets it. When he turns around he notices that Rey's eyes are finally moving, trailing him silently, and he gives himself a small shake of the head before stepping out of the room and propping the door so it sits slightly ajar.

That could be a mistake. She could get up and lock him out.

Still, he refuses to think about it as he walks around looking for a vending machine of any sort. It takes him about five minutes and he ends up by the small indoor pool area before he spots one. He surveys the selection. It's all junkfood, but it'll have to do. Kylo shoves his card into the machine after fumbling with his wallet and starts choosing snacks, but ultimately just ends up buying almost one of each thing. Then he moves to the next machine and selects two cans of ginger ale before removing his card and all of his purchases. The walk back is slow as he juggles to keep all the food from falling, and he sighs in relief to find the door still propped ajar.

The room's still dark when he enters, and Rey hadn't moved. He walks over to her bed, ignoring the distinct way in which she stiffens, and drops all the snacks at the foot of it. Then he passes her a cold ginger ale quietly, ignoring once again the way she jolts up and stares at him.

After a heartbeat too long, she takes it. Her fingers accidentally graze his and a small jolt of electricity passes between them in that second, then it's gone along with the cold damp sweat of the cold soft drink. He digs around for a few bags of cheese crackers and takes them over to his side, leaving the rest for her to choose from.

She doesn't move, holding the can of ginger ale still in the air.

"What're you doing?" She asks, voice low and curious. Kylo chances a glance at her, finally, and gives her a small shrug.

"We haven't eaten since the flight," he offers. Rey narrows her eyes.

"No, I mean, why do you keep feeding me?"

His head finally snaps up at her and his eyebrows travel up.

"You sounded hungry. I know I certainly am," he says, then, after a moment, "Or, aren't you?"

Rey lowers her eyes to the rather large pile of junk food piled at her feet and bites her lip, and he allows himself a small smile. She's starving. He busies himself with cracking open the wrapper of his snacks and winces slightly at the loud pop of the soda can's tab as it snaps open in the quiet of the night before leaning back into the headboard.

He fumbles for the TV's remote. The room bathes in a whitish glow and the weather man's back on, and Kylo sets himself to pointedly avoiding looking at the small girl in the bed next over, though from the corner of his eye he can see her digging through the food pile. Soon enough he hears a second pop.

They sit like that in silence for a half hour, Kylo slowly eating from his bag and Rey devouring her own. They stay up like this for a few hours, not quite paying attention to the weatherman, the only other sounds that of his crunching on cheese crackers and Rey crunching on chips. It's a comfortable quiet, for once. Perhaps not all hope is lost. Then Rey lets out a small sound as she opens her mouth to speak, and he immediately tenses.

It's starting to become a knee-jerk reaction. Rey talks and his shoulders tense. He bites his lower lip and keeps his eyes trained on the screen.

"Ren," she calls, "Your name's Ren, isn't it?"

He gives a small nod, eyes glued to the screen. From his left he can hear a small intake of breath, and he's preparing himself for battle when—

"Ren," she repeats, and this time it sounds more like she's tasting the name on her lips, and he swallows, "Well, Ren, I just… I wanted to say sorry. For before."

He allows himself to look at her then, turning his head just slightly. Her features are pale against the TV's glow, hair messy from resting on a pillow for too long, and shoulders peeking through from the wide collar of a t-shirt that's far too big for her.

"Don't worry about it," he finally replies with a small nod, turning his eyes back to the TV.

"No, no. I do worry about it. I was accusing you of being a jerk while being a total bitch," she sighs, and his brows shoot up. "You were trying to apologize, and I just…"

When he finally looks at her after a pregnant pause, she's rubbing her eyes with the back of delicate fingers, looking for all the world like she hadn't seen a proper day's rest in a very long time.

"I'm sorry," she continues, "It was very rude of me."

It was, but he isn't about to say that. Not when she's letting down her walls and trying to make amends.

"It's alright. Apology accepted."

"No, it isn't alright. But, thank you," she says, and her lips lift up in a small, hesitant smile. Some day he'd remember that smile, the first honest smile she'd ever given him, and think of it so very fondly. In this moment, however, all he can see is a small young woman who looks like she's about to collapse from exhaustion.

He gives her a small nod, then tilts his chin towards the wrappers on the bed.

"Are you done with all those?"

Rey nods, her cheeks tinging slightly pink in the semi-light of the room.

"I'll pay you back for these," she pipes in, staring at the wrappers.

Kylo shakes his head, giving her a small smile.

"Don't worry about it. It's the least I could do after, you know… all the puke talk and everything else."

Rey lets out a giggle, quickly followed by a snort. It takes him by surprise. It's not the laugh she'd given him before, but a truly delighted sound, and there's something kind of adorable about the way that snort had come out. She immediately covers her mouth except it sends her into another fit of laughter. He grins, not wanting to break the spell, and quietly gets up and starts collecting all the empty bags.

What she hasn't eaten he places on the table, then takes her empty can from her hands and turns to deposit it in the trash with his own, and for this night, at least, Kylo figures they'll get along.

* * *

The phone rings. Loudly. Kylo tries to unglue his eyes and turns, hair mussed and face scrunched against the light filtering through the window. He turns to look at Rey, who's rolling around with a loud groan as she, too, wakes up. She gives him a look from behind sleep laden eyes and frowns; the phone keeps ringing incessantly.

He makes a grab for it and pulls it to his ear, propping himself up on an elbow and mumbling out a _hello_ that he's pretty sure comes out as a grunt rather than a greeting.

"Mr. Kylo Ren, sir?"

"Speaking," he replies, bringing up his other hand to rub at his face. A glance at the old digital clock on the small bedside table between the two beds reads six in the morning. They've only been asleep for four hours.

"Sir, have you had a chance to see the weather channel yet?"

He recognizes the voice. It's Albert's. Poor boy was working probably working a double shift.

"Should I have?" He asks, blinking his eyes awake. He looks out the window. Nothing's changed. It's pouring as if a dam had broken, and he can hear rolling thunder in the far distance.

 _"I'm calling all visitors on behalf of your airline, Sir, to inform you that your flight is being delayed until the day after tomorrow."_ The boy sounds like he's reading the information off a teleprompter, by the shift of his voice, _"and that Delta airlines would like to apologize for this further delay. You will be compensated for your troubles with a gift card, and, of course, your stay here will be covered."_

Kylo sits up and runs his fingers through his hair. Another two days? He rolls his neck until it pops. Well, it's not like he has anywhere to be in a hurry, anyway.

"Thank you, Albert." He offers, and Albert - who didn't expect to be recognized — immediately stutters.

" _W-would you be so kind as to please inform the lady you're staying with?_ " There's a small pause, " _…Miss Jakken._ "

Kylo nods and hangs up the line. Rey's sat up and is staring at him curiously.

"Who was that?" She asks, testing her bedhead with sleepy fingers, her other hand pulling up at the collar of her shirt to cover her slender shoulders.

Kylo flops back against his pillows and grabs for the television remote, turning the T.V onto the weather channel, where he'd left it tuned to the previous night.

Sure enough, the weatherman is talking about the weather as though hell had landed on their doorstep. Super fast mile-hour winds, non-stop rain and thunderstorms, and warnings for flooding spread out over several areas. He turns his head to look at Rey and points at the television.

"The desk boy, calling about _that_."

Rey stiffens, her eyes gluing to the animated man on the screen.

 _It looks like we're in for the long haul,_ ladies _and gentlemen. The storm system's pushing through from the sea coupled with—_

"What did Albert say, exactly?" She asks, not once looking away from the screen.

Kylo toys with the remote, staring out the window.

"We're stuck here for two more days," he finally answers, "Delta will be compensating the passengers for the delays, and covering our stay."

Rey tosses the blankets aside and gets up, walking towards the same window Kylo's staring out of until she comes into his field of vision. He watches as she presses her forehead to the window, keeps it there, then lightly lifts it and brings it down with a thud. His eyes widen slightly. Another bang on the window.

"I take it you're not pleased…" he murmurs, treading carefully. She turns her head just long enough to shoot him a glare before sighing, then walks over to the closet and starts digging in her bag. Out comes her phone, and, he's pleasantly surprised to see, a cellphone charger. Then she walks to the plug in the wall.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he immediately interrupts, knowing exactly where this would go if she plugged it in. Rey looks over her shoulder and gives him a confused look.

Helpless little woman.

"You'll short-circuit the whole hotel," he explains. Rey yanks her hand back from the wall as if burned.

He shakes his head with a small smile and gets up, digging around his own bag until he finds the small power converter plug-box, quickly tossing it to her. She catches it. Rey looks at it, turns it around, inspects it curiously. Then she shrugs.

"Thank you."

He lets out a noncommittal hum, training his eyes back on the television. The weatherman is confirming Albert's words. It feels weird, to be getting along with her when only a day ago she basically hated him with all her being. He'll take what he can get. She walks over to her bed once more and plugs in her phone, resting it on the bedside table and staring at it as if her attention would force it to charge faster. Kylo decides to just mind his own business.

The clock reads 6:15AM.

"I'm going to go shower," he tells her as he digs in his bag for clothes, Rey lets out a grunt that he takes for agreement, and, when he glances at her over his shoulder, she's still glaring at her phone. He pulls out his clothes and pads over to the bathroom, grabbing the towel he'd used the night before on his way. It takes him about fifteen minutes to be done and by the time he hops out of the shower, he can hear a small voice coming from the bedroom.

"No _signal_?!"

Kylo shakes his head, and steps out only to find Rey, legs spread out on the bed, staring murder at her phone. He grabs his own and powers it up. Sure enough, zero signal. He points to the landline.

"Try that."

She jumps for it as if she had forgotten that there was a landline, dialing a number quickly off of her phone and tapping her knee impatiently. Then she scowls.

"Nothing," she grumbles, before looking at the placard by the phone and finding the front desk's speed-dial.

"Hi, hi — I tried to make a phone call from your—" she starts, only to stop abruptly, "Oh."

Kylo arches an eyebrow.

"The landlines are down. Internal calls only." She deadpans. "Yeah, got it. Thanks."

And then she's slamming the phone down and flopping face first into her pillow, where she starts screaming. Kylo bites his lower lip, then reminds himself not to judge. His own temper tantrums are way worse. He gets up and grabs his wallet and his room key, deciding to just give her space and exiting the room.

* * *

It turns out to be a very long two days. Kylo mostly stays out of the room, deciding that being around her at all times would be about a hundred levels of awkward. He sees her a couple of times at the hotel's bar, having a meal or staring at her phone angrily, and nods to her if she happens to glance his way, but otherwise they remain pretty silent. And separate.

Which is a good thing. Silence keeps him from accidentally saying the wrong thing now that they've formed some sort of truce between them. That first night he walks in around eleven at night to find her already asleep, but by the next day she's already up before him and pacing.

He turns in bed and watches her for a long moment from under his sheets. She doesn't seem to notice, so he tracks her as she walks the very small area, huffing and puffing to herself.

"Everything alright?"

She jumps, then seems to remember that he, too, is in the room with her.

"Oh, just..." She sighs, motioning to the window in explanation, as if he's supposed to know exactly what she means.

"It'll be done tomorrow," he reassures her.

Rey grinds her teeth and resumes pacing, "I don't have that much time."

Kylo sits up, finally, blankets pooling on his lap as he bends his knees up and rests his elbows on them.

"I'm sure wherever you're going will be there tomorrow."

That earns him a glare.

"I can't just sit around," she clips.

Kylo sighs, then pushes himself up off out of bed.

"Alright, so don't sit around. Will you join me for breakfast?"

Rey narrows her eyes at him but then looks around the room, out the window, and realizes that being cooped up in the room won't help her either, so she sighs and nods. He extends his hand towards the bathroom, as if to say, ladies first, and watches her go. About forty five minutes later, they're walking side by side into the hotel's restaurant. A waitress who, like Albert, looks far too young to be working there, extends them a couple of menus. Kylo grabs his, making sure not to touch the girl as she gives him a long look, then buries himself in it.

The waitress walks off only to return five minutes later with a pad in hand.

"What would you like?" She chirps, and it's way too early in the morning for anyone to sound so happy.

"Eggs, bacon - lots of bacon! - hash browns, and… orange juice," Rey finishes, surveying the menu to make sure she hasn't missed anything.

Kylo looks at her with newfound appreciation. He's far too used to women trying to eat like little birds around him, and it's a breath of fresh air to find one who just wants to take the whole menu and feels no remorse about it. Kylo orders the same thing and they spend the rest of their meal in pleasant silence.

Then…

"So, you never answered me," Rey says over her glass of orange juice, "what brings you to Ireland?"

Kylo's hands stop mid-cutting, immediately running through every excuse he could give her, before he settles on a grunt that sounds like "business." Rey arches an eyebrow, prompting him to speak, so he swallows and sighs.

"I'm…taking over my uncle's pub."

That was a safe enough answer. He wouldn't get into the why with her, not when the wound was so fresh. Rey, seeming to notice that Kylo won't divulge anything further, simply nods and gives him a small smile, returning to her food, something he's grateful for.

"What about you?" He asks before he can help himself.

Her reasons were her business, really, but she'd asked, so he would, too. Rey takes a long moment chewing her food, and he almost thinks she won't answer.

"Meeting up with my boyfriend," she replies, immediately dropping her fork and knife lightly and fidgeting with her napkin.

Suddenly everything made perfect sense.

"Must be quite a guy," he provides with what he hopes is a friendly smile, "chasing him all the way to Ireland."

Rey gives him a silent look then returns to her food, and Kylo sighs internally. There he goes again, making shit worse.

 _Stop talking, Kylo. Just keep your mouth shut._

"He is," she says.

"I'm sorry?"

"My boyfriend. He's quite a guy."

Kylo tilts his head, then nods. The man certainly must be, for her to hike all the way to Ireland and deal with all this nonsense. Had he been in her place, he would have turned back around and gone home a long time ago. He stays silent, though, because every time he opens his mouth, somehow he makes things worse.

Their server comes around, all bright eyes and brilliant smile, and asks them if they'd like something more. Rey shakes her head and so Kylo pulls out his wallet and passes his card, and the waitress takes off. When he looks up, Rey is staring at him.

"Why do you keep doing that?"

"Doing what?" He asks, trying to cover the last twenty four hours looking for something else he's done wrong.

"Feeding me. You keep feeding me," she answers by way of explanation.

Oh.

Kylo leans back in his chair and brings his glass to his lips, inspecting her over the clear rim of it as he takes a gulp. What a strange girl. He's never met a single girl who had ever felt affronted at being treated to a meal, and it's not like he'd asked her on a date or anything. He shrugs.

"I invited you. And I was hungry," he finally replies while setting his glass down quietly.

Rey's shoulders seem to lose a little bit of their tense posture. Did she think he had wanted something from her? Then she looks at him and shrugs.

"Fine, but then the next one's on me."

Her words left absolutely no room to argue. Usually he'd say absolutely not. He was perfectly capable of paying for a meal for a lady, but the way she was looking at him said she wouldn't have it. He gives her a small smile.

"Fine."

That night, they decide to make good on Rey's promise when they both wander off to the hotel's bar. Rey has changed into her coral dress again and when he places his hand on her lower back to help ease her onto the bar stool, his fingers accidentally meet with bare skin that burns. Rey tenses, immediately pulling away from him while trying to pass it off as readjusting in her seat. The ghost of that touch remains on his fingers far longer than such a casual touch should.

"I'll be back in a moment," he tells her, stretching his fingertips as he walks away towards the gentlemen's rooms.

He walks to the sink and quickly runs cold water over his hands, numbing them until the feeling goes away. What on earth is wrong with him? He runs fingers through his hair once he dries his hands and sighs.

A few minutes later after fussing over this one strand of hair that keeps irritatingly falling in front of his line of vision, he finally steps out. The music of the bar immediately overtake his senses. The bar's crowded, with pretty much every single passenger from his flight and their grandmother looking for either a meal or a drink. His eyes survey the crowd, travel towards the bar, and train in on a coral dress. Then to the man standing by it, leaning into Rey a little too closely for someone who doesn't know her. He can almost sense Rey's discomfort as he watches her try to lean away, gripping at her wallet, back muscles tense like a coil. Any minute now she'll bolt. He looks at the man again and notices the red hair, and his mind immediately travels to an insufferable ginger three thousand miles away.

Kylo stalks forward.

* * *

 **What do you think? Please review!**

 **Author's note:** I hope you enjoyed this chapter! A giant thanks to truthwins.s, .schreave, everlastingtrueromance and valexian rose for the amazing and hilarious reviews! your sweet messages made my week. Thank you!


	7. Chapter 7: Ham & Butter

A huge thanks for all the love you guys have been giving these chapters, especially to Valexian Rose for the mindblowingly hilarious commentary of the last few chapters! you guys make posting this fic worth it. Thank you.

Onward!

* * *

"Well look who it is. The Ray of Sunshine," comes a heavy irish-accented voice at her shoulder and Rey jumps. She'd been too busy trying to ignore the ghost sensation of a hand on her back to notice the man who'd walked into her air bubble. Rey immediately tries to inch farther away on her seat, cursing it for being so small that she can only shift in place. Her stool creaks under the sudden weight shift.

"Uhm," Rey starts, really taking in the owner of the voice. It's the redhead from the bus. The extra talkative one without a filter and, apparently, a concept of personal space. Rey arches an eyebrow, but immediately pastes on what she hopes is a pleasant smile. "Hello."

"Ray, right?" He asks, leaning forward and giving her a sickly sweet smile, all sparkly white teeth and thin lips. Rey tenses further. He reaches forward until his hand is inches away from hers on the counter. Rey immediately snatches her hand back.

"No, it's Rey."

But it doesn't matter that she corrects him for the second time since she's met him. He's too busy staring at her bare shoulders, at her waist, at the hike of her skirt. She immediately curses herself for wearing this instead of a pair of jeans.

"Hmm. I'm Declan," he offers, not that Rey had wanted to know. She takes a couple of glances around the bar, looking for a familiar face that could help her. Nothing.

"Uh huh," she responds in the most noncommittal way she can, hoping he'll catch the hint that she's not interested.

"I didn't think I'd see you again," Declan begins in a poor imitation of a seductive murmur, propping an elbow on the counter and leaning forward _just enough_ so that his jean-clad knees brush against her naked ones. Her body reacts viscerally, she swings her legs inward until they bang against the bar, but the sharp pain is preferable to this guy's legs, so she bites back a curse and gives him a stiff smile. He doesn't seem to notice. He's too busy staring elsewhere.

"How lucky," she deadpans.

"So, can I buy a pretty lady a drink? Call it a _Welcome to Ireland_ toast," he offers, eyes roving over her face, her eyes, her lips. When they land on her neck Rey's stomach flops again in a really uncomfortable, sickening way. She keeps her silence. He seems to take it as a challenge.

"One of the quiet ones, then? I like the quiet ones," he says, leaning forward, "They're often the ones that are full of _fire and fun,_ Ray."

Rey resists the urge to gag, feeling the motion stopping short in her throat as she leans back and he leans ever forward.

"And you seem so full of fire, a beautiful woman like yourself. So, what do you say to that drink?" That last sentence comes in a long, drawn out whisper.

She's about to fall out of her seat when she hears a set of steps that she's starting to quickly recognize, even above the din of the music. It's an assured stride, the click of heels engaging in long steps prickling her eardrums as Rey nearly jumps to attention. She turns her head to see Ren stalking towards them, eyes zeroed in on the guy in front of her with a barely contained scowl on his face.

Rey nearly sags in relief.

They fall into it as if rehearsed. It's the oldest trick in the book, and perhaps this is why, when Ren approaches her, Rey gives him one panicked look before plastering a smile on her face. He immediately moves closer, wraps his arm around her waist and tucks her into his side. Rey's fingers dig into the pocket of his hoodie beneath his leather jacket, feeling a surprisingly hard abdomen tense as if waiting for a punch, then relax under her fingers, and she bunches them into the fabric. _Please play along._ His lips press a soft kiss into her temple and she makes herself lean in, widening her smile as she hugs him closer.

"Sorry it took me so long," he mumbles into her hair, voice soft and breath warm, loud enough for the redheaded man before her to hear. Rey looks up at Ren and gives him an even wider smile, trying not to show just how relieved she is.

"No worries, sweetheart, I already ordered for us," she replies with far more cheer than she feels. Rey hasn't ordered, of course, but it's one more lie to cement the act. She watches Ren's line of vision move to take in the redhead that only a minute ago had been coming on _strong_.

"Who are you?" He asks, and his voice is no longer warm. It's hard as granite and lower than she'd ever heard it, and it sends a shiver down her spine. Ren's fingers tighten reassuringly, but his gaze never leaves the other man.

"Honey," Rey jumps in, making sure to emphasize the word with a grin, "This is Declan."

Declan's taken on a particularly stiff posture as his dark, beady eyes take Rey and Ren in. He didn't expect her to be accompanied. He extends a hand to Ren, which Ren doesn't take. Instead Ren looms closer, face unreadable, eyes zeroed in on the other man's. Declan stutters, dropping his hand awkwardly.

"I'm… sorry. I didn't realize—" he begins, then gives Rey a pointed, embarrassed look. Ren spares him the embarrassment of having to talk out his serious lack of judgement, however, when he speaks next.

"Are you one of my wife's acquaintances? It's nice to meet you, Declan."

It was not nice meeting him. Ren's voice leaves no room for doubt that Declan should turn around and walk away _right now._ Rey does smile genuinely then. Perhaps this giant of a man is her savior after all, and not just by putting an oxygen mask on her.

"It's nice to meet you too," Declan mumbles, before he looks over his shoulder as though he's forgotten something far away. "I— Ah… sorry. I just remembered I have somewhere to be."

He excuses himself with a farewell to Rey that holds none of the attempted sleek warmth and charm he'd put on earlier for her. It's borderline professional. The man she knows as Declan turns around and immediately hightails it out of there. Rey sags against Ren the second Declan's back is to them, her head pressing into the crook of his arm as tension slips from her bones; she feels Ren give her side an absent-minded yet soft and reassuring rub with his thumb, his eyes tracking the redhead until he's all but out of sight.

He turns his head to look down at her.

"Are you alright?" He asks, and his voice has returned to warm and normal, not the chip of ice it had been but a moment ago.

She nods and he lets his hand drop finally, taking a step back. Rey gives him a weak smile and turns back to the bar, snatching her hand from his pocket in a hurry, fingers unnaturally warm with the feeling of taut muscle underneath ghosting her fingertips. The wood grain of the dark bar's countertop suddenly becomes the most interesting thing in the world. She watches him out of the corner of her eye as he takes a seat next to her on an empty bar stool and pulls out his wallet and phone, propping them on the counter. Ren stays quiet the whole time. She's thankful for that. It gives her the few seconds she needs to collect herself until the burning sensation of a pair of warm lips disappears from her temple.

"Thank you for that," she says, swallowing spit that isn't there. "It was…"

Ren nods, eyes on his phone as he flips it by the corners slowly for something to do with his hands. His eyes land on her temple for a second, and they're only swapping stolen glances, when he finally speaks. "You didn't look very comfortable."

"No, I wasn't," she agrees.

He looks at her square in the eye then, the dim golden light of the bar bouncing back from his brown eyes and turning them a particular shade of amber that reminds her of brandy and long evenings. Then he's giving her a small smile and the spell is broken when he says, "So, about dinner."

Rey calls down a waitress and demands that Ren not hold back on her account — the man was big, he looked like he needed a ton of calories just to feel full — and he gives her an amused half smile before placing his order: a ham and butter sandwich, fries, and a some fancy sounding beer she can't pronounce. Rey gapes.

"Ham and b—what?" she asks, confused. She offers to pay and he buys a ham and butter sandwich? Weird man. He _does_ smirk then, and Rey is left to place an order for a large hamburger, fries, and a drink. She takes out her ID but the waitress doesn't even bother looking at it, and her brows rise.

When their food arrives she glares at his plate. Ham and butter sandwich. She only realizes she's staring when Ren lets her know as much.

"You're staring," he states, digging into his fries. Rey glares at him.

"Ham and butter sandwich," she murmurs, more to herself than to him. The smirk comes back to his face.

"If you want to try some all you have to do is ask," he counters, but he sounds so smug that she'd rather slap that look off his face than try his sandwich in that moment. Still, he takes half of it and places it on her plate unprompted.

"What— No! I'm feeding _you_ this time, remember?" She balks, trying to hand it back. He holds her hand by the wrist, stopping her from dropping it back on his plate.

"I know, and I'm letting you pay for me, even." He responds as if he's doing her a favor, a tiny smirk on his face. "Just try it," he urges, pushing her hand back to her.

Rey glares at him, at the sandwich, then at her own loaded plate. In response, Ren arches a dark eyebrow and she's left to either have him hold onto her wrist until one of them gave in, or take a bite. She gives in. Rey leans forward, and only when she opens her mouth to take a bite does he finally let her go, a self satisfied little grin on his face. Rey pinches her nose at him in distaste.

That is, until buttery ham and bread hits her tongue and her neurons spark. What in the—

She takes another giant bite, forgetting that it's technically half of his meal. The self-satisfied smugness rolling off his shoulders only increases. Rey chews at a million miles an hour, trying to both inhale the sandwich and speak fast enough. When she finally swallows, her eyes have gone a little wide.

"That's not ham and butter."

Ren grabs his beer and takes a swig. "It most definitely is."

So they set about arguing about ham and butter for the next fifteen minutes, only stopping to actually take bites from their food. He lets her keep the entire half.

"So what do they put in it?!" She asks, bewildered as she finishes the last bit of it. Ren shrugs.

"No preservatives, for one," taking the last bite of his half and swallowing it down with beer. Rey considers telling the waitress to bring her a tub of butter to take home. "You should try the french one next."

Rey gapes again. Then she looks down at her half eaten burger, already feeling full. Not one to waste, however, she pushes it towards him and he frowns, but sets to eating it after Rey basically threatens to force it down his throat. Food is a commodity that should never go to waste.

Somehow they slip into surprisingly friendly conversation for the rest of the night, and everything's going so very well that Rey feels some of the tension she's carried for days slipping out of her shoulders- until the TV gets turned on. It's the weather channel.

What was it with these people and the damn weather channel?!

The mood sours instantly and the itch she'd felt all morning - the one Ren had worked so hard to make her forget about, she realizes with startling clarity - comes back full force. So much time lost. She'd been in this damn hotel for two days already, and it was beginning to look like it would take her another one. A nagging roil grips her stomach as she realizes she'd also forgotten all about getting to Dublin, getting to Finn, since breakfast. _Too busy thinking about stupid ham and butter._ Her stomach suddenly turns on her meal. Worse yet, she couldn't even get a hold of Finn.

Ren is studiously avoiding looking at her, giving her space to think. That is, until she shoves herself slowly off her stool and grabs her wallet. He arches an eyebrow but says nothing, and she walks away to the nearest payphone. Ren's eyes follow her, then he bows his head over his drink when he realizes where she's gone, leaving Rey to turn away from the noise.

She picks up the phone and swipes her card to make an international phone call, then dials the one phone number she's ever memorized. And—

Nothing.

Rey takes a deep breath and hangs up, hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. She stares back out into the bar, spotting Ren, who's busy looking up at the TV and taking a slow swig of his beer, curling in on himself with knees pressed tight against the bar and back bowed in order for his elbows to reach the countertop. She's stuck in a country she knows nothing of and the only person she even remotely can talk to is a man she's known for exactly… What? Two days? She takes in a deep breath then walks back to Ren, hopping on her seat once, twice, before she can finally land her bottom on it and wobble herself into place. He gives her a side glance, but if he's amused by the ridiculous little hop, he doesn't show it. Smart man. She doesn't know if she could deal with ridicule at this very moment.

"No luck?" He asks instead, thumbing the bottle's neck absentmindedly. Rey lets out an irritated grunt. He nods.

They sit in silence for a while, Ren's eyes on the TV and Rey's attention swimming in the noise of the bar, twitching her fingers as she toys with a cold fry she'd snatched from their plates, any leftover appetite having disappeared with the beep of a dead phone line. She catches Ren giving her random glances as the silence stretches before dutifully going back to his beer.

"Stop staring," she finally grumbles, too glum to bother putting any heat into that warning. Funny, that. How had her life come to this? Days ago she'd been sitting in her loft, in the warm light of the setting afternoon, daydreaming about family and friends…and now she's halfway across the world sitting in a pub full of perfect strangers, next to a slightly-less perfect stranger, bossing him around.

Ren looks at the TV and she notices that he doesn't look at her again. So she finally lets out a grunt.

"I have to find a way out of here," she grumbles.

"Will he be there tomorrow?" He asks, a strong dark brow arched in question, and Rey knows he's referring to Finn. Rey nods.

"So what's the hurry?" Ren continues, looking a bit confused.

"I just—" Rey starts, but her tongue glues to the roof of her mouth.

She can't finish that sentence. How could she admit that the reason she's so impatient is that the longer she goes without seeing Finn, the more she realizes what an idiotic thing it was to hop on a plane and follow, like a love-sick desperate teenager? How can she admit that the more days that pass, the more she starts to lose her courage? Rey shakes her head.

"I just need to go."

And that seems like the right thing to do. She's never been one for patience, after all. Suddenly Rey has a plan again, if hastily formulated. She calls over the bar tender and passes her credit card to pay for the meal, aware of how dangerously close she's coming to having to tap into the couple of hundred dollars she has in her bank account. Ren narrows his eyes at her hand as she extends the card, obviously looking for ways to make her not pay so that he can, but it's too late and the bartender walks away with it. She gives him a smug grin, despite the roiling anxiety in her belly. There, they were even.

Sort of.

He's still two meals ahead, but she plans on leaving now.

"It was nice to meet you, Ren," she finally says when her card is returned to her. Ren's eyes narrow.

"What, you actually mean to leave _now_? At this hour? In this weather? " He points towards the screen, using the weatherman as back up for his argument, "Are you insane?"

But Rey's already walking away, leaving him to stare at her retreating back. She leaves the loud bar and walks quickly through the halls until she finds Room 305, punching in the key until it blinks green and lets her slide the door open, and she gets to work. She grabs her bag, shoves her PJs that she'd hung over the chair into it, looks around for anything she may have forgotten on the bed or the night table, then nearly runs into the bathroom to collect her toiletries. Rey takes one last run around the room before staring out the window. It's raining hard, but not as hard as before, and now would be the best time to go. She couldn't wait until tomorrow night. She'd find a way to just get to Finn. There had to be a taxi service, or a bus, or a train still operational. Some way to get to Dublin. She doesn't know that her nerve will last her long enough, otherwise.

She crafts a plan quickly: First collect everything — check — then go to the front desk and ask for phone numbers. The hotel's may be down, but perhaps she could find a pay phone. She'd find a store and buy an umbrella, or something. She does one last look around the room and swings the door open, ready to step outside when—

—A mountain of a body blocks her way. Her eyes jerk up immediately as she takes a step back. Ren. He's leaning against the doorway, staring down at her with arms crossed.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asks, arching an eyebrow.

Rey gapes.

Was he being serious? Her fists ball at her sides and she stares up at him, defiant nose up in the air as she glares him down.

"Move," she demands.

There's none of the friendliness they'd shared before over a sandwich. The man before her is blocking her from getting out, and there is nothing Rey hates more than being cornered.

"Only when you tell me where you're going," he replies, not moving an inch. Rey frowns.

"Not that it's any of your business, but Dublin." Rey bites, "Now move."

"No," he replies. Her eyes travel robotically to his.

"Excuse me?" Is all that she can muster because what was _his problem_?

"Have you even looked outside?" He prompts, looking over her head at the window. "You're a woman traveling alone and you want to step out in the dark into a thunderstorm in a country you where you know absolutely _no one_ , and with no way to contact your boyfriend. Are you out of your mind?"

Rey's finally had it. She doesn't need this absolute stranger telling her what she should or should not consider. She'd spent her whole life _surviving_. A stupid bit of rain wouldn't pose a danger to her now. She lifts her hand and bunches them into his hoody, trying to push him out of the way. He's like a brick wall.

"I. Said. _Move_ ," she hisses, trying to push harder with every word she enunciates. He doesn't budge, just stands there like an unforgiving wall of muscle and leather.

"At least wait until tomorrow," he finally speaks, and Rey chances a glance at him. His brows are furrowed, as if confused at himself about why he's even doing any of this, and Rey can't help but agree. This is none of his business.

Rey finally lets out a frustrated grunt bordering on a scream and drops her hands, stepping back.

"Look, I don't know why you suddenly feel the need to be chivalrous or whatever, but I can look after myself just fine. I have done so all my life. _Thank you_ for having looked after me on the plane, and here, even, but I will be just fine," she starts, realizing too late that she's rambling. She doesn't owe this man an explanation. Still, she continues, "And you can get out of my way now. The sooner I leave the sooner I can get to Dublin. _Unharmed_."

Ren straightens then, almost blocking all the light coming in from the hall. He just stands there regarding her in that annoying way he'd had when he'd refused to budge his knees on the plane. Rey grinds her teeth.

"Your concern's been duly noted, but your sense of duty is entirely misplaced," she adds, hoping that this finally will get him to move. It doesn't. When she speaks next, it comes at a near growl. "Ren, move. Now."

Ren purses his lips and his lids lower to half mast, and he gives her a long look before stepping aside, perhaps having decided that this was not a battle worth fighting. He owes her nothing, after all. Fucking finally. She looks at him for a second longer then steps down the hall without saying good bye. She doubts she'll see the stubborn man again.

* * *

 **What did you think? Please review!**

 **Author's note:** Declan, darling... just... shoo.

Declan is the name of the original protrag in the movie, lol too bad I just took his name and gave it to an asshole (#notsorry)


	8. Chapter 8: Umbrella

Kylo clenches and unclenches his jaw. He's staring down the hall which the girl he's come to know as Rey had stormed off, counting the seconds as they pass painfully by.

Clench.

Unclench.

She's long left, of course, but, despite himself, he can't seem to just unroot his feet and do anything but stare. What an infuriating woman. She'd turned the last two and a half days of his life upside down in a way he couldn't remember anyone doing, bringing him out of his carefully constructed walls and dragging him out for a fight. She'd managed to get apologies out of him which, Kylo admits to himself, is already a feat of its own. And then she'd stood there telling him to mind his own business as she walked away.

Thunder rolls in the distance. Sheets of rain beat on the windows. The storm had picked up speed again. Kylo curses.

He owes her nothing. In fact, she _owes him_ , but that doesn't stop him from finally moving as he tosses himself into the room. He collects his bag and his belongings in a rush while shoving his phone and wallet into his pockets, before bolting out of the room. The door closes with a slam that echoes up and down the hall and he urges his legs to carry him faster, long steps bringing him to the lobby. It's deserted except for Albert, whom Kylo is starting to wonder about whether the kid even has a life outside of work, and he strides towards him at a pace that makes the young man flinch when Albert's eyes land on him.

"M-Mister Ren," Albert pipes in with a squeak. "How can I help you?"

Kylo's rather pleased to see he'd made an impression on the boy. Still, he has to be friendly.

"Did Miss Jakken check out?" He asks, and Albert immediately bends over the computer screen. It feels like ages.

When Albert finally looks up and shakes his head Kylo has to bodily suppress the urge to roll his eyes. She'd stormed out without even checking out of the room. Kylo pinches his nose with his index finger and thumb and lets out a sigh.

"Did she leave?" He asks. Albert seems to connect the dots.

Of course the man would have seen her walk out of the front door. There was nobody else in the lobby. Her footsteps would have sounded like a chorus echoing against the walls in such a large room like this.

"Your call about the extended stay," he starts, giving Albert a patient look, "Please check me and Ms. Jakken out of our room, and if you'd be so kind I will collect her gift card and mine. I will give her hers when I catch up to her."

Albert gives him a wary look but, upon seeing that Kylo's not budging, he hands over two prepaid cards as Kylo hands back two sets of room keycards. He swings the strap of his leather duffelbag over his shoulder and sticks the gift cards in his pocket behind his wallet, then looks at Albert.

"Do you have an umbrella?"

"Uh—"

"An umbrella!" He repeats, patience running out as he looks at Albert and hears the rolling thunder as if it were right above his head. Albert ducks behind the counter and pulls out a large umbrella, holding it tightly.

"Well it's my umbrella but—" he starts, and Kylo nearly curses. He pulls out the prepaid cards and hands one of them to Albert.

"Here, take my card. However much is on there is yours. I'm sure you can buy another one." Then he snatches the umbrella from Albert's fingers and turns around.

"But Sir this is two hundred—" Albert shouts after him, but Kylo's already pushing out of the lobby as he opens up the large umbrella. The kid could consider it his tip.

Once outside the sound of rain drowns out anything but his breathing. He looks up and down the streets, trying to find her. He narrows his eyes against the darkness, trying to see through the rain, and just catches a small flash of coral under a street lamp long enough to run after it. The open umbrella doesn't do much. He angles it to where it takes most of the beating, but it's raining hard enough that he's getting wet anyway. He gets a full on view of her passing another street lamp, arms wrapped around herself and sopping wet, head and shoulders hunched down against the rain as if that would help anything, and Kylo's nostrils flare.

 _Helpless, stubborn woman._

Kylo slows his step until he's walking behind her, front of the umbrella held out so that it covers her head, and just as she's noticing that the sky is no longer falling on her anymore, he lets out a hard huff.

"You're helpless," he repeats again, tone gruff. Rey swivels around and pins him with a hard glare, and he's forced to stop.

A man and a woman, standing under an umbrella and bathed in the street lamp's dim light that dances around them, broken by the rain, in the middle of Ireland under what feels like the strongest rainstorm in the history of humanity. He almost laughs, and images of his mother singing _Dancing in the Rain_ flash through his mind. What had his life come to? The thought dies away as another roll of thunder passes overhead.

"What're you doing?" Rey asks perfunctorily, and the shiver running through her limbs is nothing if not obvious. She's shaking like a leaf in the wind, her dress all but glued to her skin and the bag he'd worked so carefully to keep waterproof bared to the elements as she wraps her arms around her torso.

"Making sure you're not dead in a ditch," he replies flippantly before he can stop himself. What is he doing? He should have been inside, in the now empty room, getting ready for bed. He should not be trekking after a girl he barely knows in the middle of the night with his belongings in tow, trying to shield her from the rain.

 _You can be an asshole all you want, Ben, but that doesn't excuse you from being a gentleman._

He'd been told that as a child once by his father. They had been suffering through one of his mother's sappy movies after she'd come back from a long day at work. Nine year old Ben Solo had not understood a thing about the movie, but it made his mother happy and so his father suffered through it next to her on the couch. And if his father could suffer through it, then so could he. He no longer remembers what the movie had been. But he remembers his father laughing as Leia smacked Han's shoulder for cursing, and perhaps he only remembered the words because it was one of the few times he saw his mother and father truly get along, teasing instead of fighting each other for once.

And so here he stands, the asshole trying to be the gentleman. He had certainly been the former to Rey Jakken. Perhaps he could finally make up for it once and for all. There is also the fact that as a lawyer who had often had to defend victims of assault, he feels morally obligated to ensure she doesn't become one.

Rey's not having it, though.

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms further up until they rest under her breasts, cocking a hip and trying to look intimidating in all of her soaking wet duckling look-alike glory. Kylo smirks. He can't help himself. Helpless little woman.

"I am doing just fine, thank you," she mutters. But then her eyes land on his duffel bag over his shoulder. "Where are you going?"

Kylo shrugs.

"I felt like going for a stroll," he dead pans with half lidded eyes.

Rey huffs, "In the middle of a storm?"

"Why not? You seem to be doing the same thing."

If looks could kill he'd be six feet under by then.

"Well, go stroll elsewhere," she bites, turning around and walking away from him. He stares as she steps back into the rain and shakes his head, following behind until the umbrella is once again covering her. Rey stops so suddenly that he runs into her. His chest collides with her back, her head bouncing lightly against his collarbone, and he throws out a hand to steady himself before he can think of what he's doing. It lands on her waist and she stiffens.

But she doesn't move, waiting for _him_ to. He gets a whiff of floral shampoo over the heady smell of rain clinging to her, tingling the tip of his nose. He makes a hasty retreat, dropping his hand as she calls to him over her shoulder.

"I thought I said you should go stroll elsewhere." The way she spit out those words is more like _go take a fucking hike_ , really.

Kylo shrugs, even if she can't see it, stubbornly setting his shoulders.

"And I thought I said you should have stayed inside instead of wandering out into the middle of a storm like a mad woman."

Rey turns around, chin tilted up to try and stare at him even though she barely reaches the height of _his_ chin, forcing him to bend his neck down to stare back. He sighs.

"You're awfully impulsive," he comments, and even in the dim light he can see a creep of color flushing up her neck. He must have hit on a raw nerve.

"Look, I already told you. I don't need you to try and take care of me. I'm perfectly fine on my own. I just need to find a train or a bus and get to Dublin and I'll be _fine_. Perfectly fine. Without your help, I might add."

Kylo arches an eyebrow then. He should turn around. He should walk away with his umbrella and leave her in the middle of the thunderstorm to get wet and fend for herself, if only because she's _so damn stubborn_. He should say ' _fine, go ahead,_ ' and part ways right in that moment.

Instead he does what he's best at: he replies like a smartass.

"Oh yeah? And where is that train station, exactly?"

Her face pales in the dim light of the street and she looks around quickly, suddenly realizing she hadn't thought that far ahead. Why is he not surprised? He shakes his head and shoves the umbrella at her.

"Hold this."

Rey frowns but grabs it, and because she's so much shorter than he is he's forced to stoop in order to not bop his head against it. He gives her a sour look but she only smirks back, relishing getting the upper hand on him if only on this small thing. He pulls out a map and glints at it, forcing her to move closer to the street lamp so he can see the tiny names and look for the street they're on.

"You have a map." Rey deadpans. He looks up at her from under long, thick lashes.

Of course he had a map. Being prepared was the one rule he lived by lately.

"When was the last time you checked your cellphone's signal?" He asks, and Rey bites her lip.

 _I thought so._

His eyes fly back to his map and he finds the street they're on, not that far from the hotel. He traces his finger down the road until he finds a train station.

"It's a bit of a hike. A mile walk from here. Are you sure you want to do this or would you just be reasonable and go back to the hotel?" He asks, trying to be the voice of reason.

Then he remembers he'd checked them out.

Right.

Well, he'd just pay for two rooms then. It's not like he can't afford it. Except... they only had one room available. The room they'd just vacated.

One room, then. For the both of them. Again.

"Which way?" She asks, little hands fisted and arms wrapped in front of her, and he can see her shivering. Of course she'd choose to go to the train station. He considers offering his jacket but she's staring murder at him and he doubts she'd even accept it, so he grabs the umbrella from her and starts walking.

When she doesn't follow he turns around, and he'll never forget the sight she paints. She's standing still under the streetlamp, getting rained on for all the weather's worth, hunched in on herself with water cascading down her head, dripping off her lashes, spidering down her high cheeks and running in a trickle down her chin. She looks cold and small and pathetic in her little floral coral dress. He can't just let her go on her own. The way she's holding herself slaps a fluorescent sign over her head that basically screams ' _Look at me! I'm young, and I'm not from here, and I'm ripe for being mugged and assaulted!_ '

Kylo lets out a rather theatrical sigh and swings his arm for her to come to his side. "Well, are you coming or what?"

She frowns. Then she takes a step forward, and another, and he can hear the squishy sounds of her shoes and almost smiles. Impulsive.

He'd get her to Dublin, where he'd be able to just wash his hands clean of her once she ended up in her boyfriend's arms, then he'd take off to go to his uncle's pub. It's not like he had anywhere else to be.

"Why are you doing this?" She asks, as if having read his mind. Kylo turns his head to look down at her once she's safely back under the umbrella and he shifts arms to help cover her fully, even if it means his shoulder starts getting a little damp.

"Doing what?" He asks as he plays dumb like he had when he was a child when Leia would ask him if he'd gotten into the frozen cookie dough.

"Helping me." She bites, but the shiver that escapes her with those words mostly just takes all signs of reproach away. Kylo shrugs.

"I have to go to Dublin, too. Might as well have company."

It's a lie, really. He had been on his way to Dublin only because it was the major airport. Once in Dublin he would have purchased a car and driven himself to Dingle after sightseeing most of the country. In truth, having landed in Cork put him about eighty percent closer to Dingle than if he'd landed in Dublin, and his going all the way there meant he was taking a massive detour…but he's not going to tell her that. Plus it beat staying in that tiny hotel with nothing to do for however long this took, because by the look of this storm, it isn't going away tomorrow.

Rey is staring at him from the corner of her eye, looking entirely unconvinced as they walk slowly forward.

"Would you like my jacket?" He finally asks, getting the impression that if he were to take it off and just give it to her she might smack him.

He remembers her tensing under his touch when it had come unbidden at the bar. She wouldn't appreciate the gesture.

Still, his mind immediately travels to the second time he'd had to make physical contact with her. She'd begged at him silently to help intervene with the creep whose name he's already forgotten and they had fallen into it so easily it had been startling. He'd had to swallow hard when her hand had snuck into the pocket of his hoody, pushing his nose and mouth into her temple to keep it from showing in his face as he'd planted a soft kiss there. He'd gotten the same noseful of floral shampoo then. Light and soft and mouth watering against her silky hair. His tongue had gone dry immediately.

But they had an act to put on, so he'd pulled her closer and cradled her into his side, and lowered his usually hard tone to a soft murmur as he greeted her, and the smile she'd blessed him with had been blinding and bright.

"Uhm…" Her voice breaks through his train of thought, snapping him back to the present. He clears his throat lightly and turns his head down to look at her.

What had they been talking about?

Rey looks down at her drenched clothes then back at him and bites her lip. "Would…— I mean…"

Ah, yes. The jacket. He hands her the umbrella's handle again and sets about to contorting himself under it to slip his leather jacket off. They exchange items, him taking back the umbrella and Rey wrapping the jacket over her shoulders, clinging to it at the front. The small sigh of relief she lets out is borderline a moan and Kylo has to bite his tongue _hard_ to keep his body from reacting. What _was it_ with this girl?

Dublin could not arrive soon enough.

Rey offers him a small smile and he almost forgets again what he was thinking about, so he lengthens his gait until she has to follow him or be left in the rain, and that helps a _little_. But not much. Not by a mile.

They walk that mile in silence, however, huddling under the umbrella which — and he sends up thanks for Albert in that moment — is surprisingly sturdy. The Irish at least knew how to make umbrellas well.

The entrance to the train station is pretty deserted, but they both give a sigh of relief to see that it is open. From where they stand Kylo can see a handful of travelers patiently waiting. Once they get up to the ticket booth, Kylo suddenly remembers something.

"Here," he says, digging into his back pocket and pulling out a prepaid card. He pushes it towards Rey. She stares at it in his hand.

"What's that?" She asks, giving him a wary glance that borderline makes him roll his eyes.

"Would you stop that? I have no ulterior motives here. This is your prepaid card from the airline. You know, the one you so thoughtlessly forgot to grab when you also forgot to check out?" He responds, his tone turning a little harder than necessary with frustration.

He should calm himself down before it turns into unleashed temper, but the fact that she'd acted as though he had wanted absolutely _anything_ from her so many times had him on edge. This. _This_ is why he tries his hardest not to come into physical contact with women, why he avoids flirting. Why he should have just _stayed in his damn hotel room_. He grunts, then shoves the card towards her until she has no option but to take it. At least, when he looks at her face, she has the decency to look bashful and embarrassed.

She turns around and walks over to the ticket booth and purchases her ticket, and he stands behind her until it's his turn. Then they walk silently, stiffly, to one of the benches and sit down. She's still curled in on herself inside his jacket and Kylo purses his lips and stares ahead, refusing to even _look_ at her. So when she speaks, it's physically painful to turn his head and pay attention.

"I'm… sorry," she finally offers, carefully wringing her small fingers in her damp lap and staring at the floor.

Kylo sets his jaw and says nothing, forcing her to look up at him. Her eyes are hazel. He'd somehow registered that before, but not to the extent and clarity with which he can see them now, under the bright true white lights of the station. If he crossed his eyes he can imagine that they would shift between green and brown, and they're startlingly bright even as she frowns up at him in consternation. The smattering of freckles on her nose is distracting, and he looks away again.

"Okay."

"Okay." She repeats after a moment.

This is awkward for both of them, and who can blame her, even if he's the one who should totally be offended?

The one bit of luck they'd had this whole trip is that somehow, by some deity's grace, there is a train running. And, by the same grace, it's scheduled for Dublin. The beauty of trains is that they run on the ground, on their own tracks, and wouldn't crash and fall from the sky because of a little bit of rain.

A little bit.

When it's finally time to board Kylo collects his bag and gives hers a look. It sits between them, a clear divide. He extends his hand to take it and Rey gives him a startled look but nods, trying to make up for her previous faux pas. He hoists it up over his shoulder with his and they enter the train, walking all the way back to one of the train cars before he pushes both bags up above their heads onto the overhead rail. He takes the window seat and she follows closely at his side, and Kylo's a little trapped in place but he doesn't complain. This one makes up for her being stuck by the window the last time.

"So, uhm…" she begins.

"Yeah?" He starts.

"I really am sorry," she mumbles, avoiding his gaze at all costs. He almost smiles. Her hair's a shock of wavy frizz now that it's had time to sit in the empty artificial heat of the station and the train, and she looks exhausted. Helpless girl.

"Okay." He repeats.

They fall into comfortable silence as the train's engines roar and he feels the tiny tug of power underneath him when it gears up. They pull up out of the station, looking forward to few hours' ride, and he sets to look out towards the darkness. He wouldn't be able to see anything for a few hours yet, but at least this is progress.

The minutes tick by and his mind starts to drift until he feels a thump on his shoulder. Rey's head's precariously propped on it. She'd fallen asleep. He looks back out the window, tapping his fingers on his thigh.

It would only be a handful of hours. He'd deposit her in the arms of her Knight in Shining Armor, then he'd turn around and go to Dingle, and everything would be as it should be. At least this would give her a story to tell her children some day.

With a wry smile he rests his head back on his seat and closes his eyes. Perhaps some sleep wouldn't be such a bad idea.

* * *

 **What did you think? Please review!**

 **Author's notes:** I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and Kylo's headspace on the little bar creep scene. ;p A huge thanks to .Schreave, truthwins.s, and Valexian Rose!

VS: Lolol she's very, very stubborn, but of course he followed ;) he can't seem to help himself.

Thank you all for reading!


	9. Chapter 9: Ticket Booth

Thank you so, so much for the love on the last chapter and all the new readers who have faved or followed this story! you guys are amazing. I hope you enjoy this chapter ;)

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Rey's woken up by the simultaneous jarring jolt of her body lurching forward, off from a surprisingly warm surface, and by a loud scream too colorful even for her usual sailor mouth. She looks around. Where in the—

Oh, right. On a train in the middle of Ireland.

The grinding of metal on metal as the train screeches to a halt is painful enough for her to cringe, and she clings hard onto her skirt because there's nothing else for her to grab onto unless she clings to the man sitting beside her, who's currently rubbing his forehead furiously. He'd been lurched forward and his head had slammed into the seat straight in front of him. That would hurt.

Her mind's already moved on from his muttered cursing, however. It's already moved onto the fact that the train has stopped. She leans over Ren to look out the window. It's pitch black outside. Rey looks up at Ren, and he's leaned back and is looking at her with raised brows as her whole torso basically hangs over his lap.

"What time is it?" She asks. He frowns, sleepy eyes still half lowered as he takes her in then slowly moves, forcing her to return to her seat.

He digs into his back pocket and pulls out his phone, turning it on and waiting painfully while it comes to life. Rey's eyes zero in on the little screen. Her phone's in her bag.

"Three in the morning."

Three o'clock in the morning. Rey's lips tighten into a thin line and she looks back out the window. The only other two people in the train car are also staring out into the darkness, trying to see what's going on. Rey gets up and walks over to the other side of the aisle to check while Ren tracks her with his eyes silently.

A couple of older men with bright orange vests that denote traffic safety step out of a car ahead of theirs and walk up and down the train line, their vests glinting in the darkness against the light of their flashlights. One of them opens up the door to Rey and Ren's carriage and steps in.

"Hello, everyone. Sorry about the abrupt stop. We had to make an emergency stop and will let you know as soon as we can when we can go on our way."

Please don't let this be a delay.

 _Please don't let this be a delay._

The old man steps out of the car, tugging on his ear as another one of his companions shouts something inaudible down to him from far up ahead.

There's a collection of shouts. First faint, then growing louder as the instructions are passed down.

Rey sits on the vacant two-seater where she'd been looking out the window and leans her head back against the pane. Ren has shifted so one knee is resting on her now empty seat, the other leg securely planted on the floor, as they regard each other.

"What now?" She asks, more to herself than him, but he responds anyway.

"We'll find out soon," Ren turns his head to watch people walk up and down the sides of the train.

When the pudgy old man finally hauls himself back up into the train, it's with a sheepish smile and a small shrug of his shoulder.

"Sorry folks, there are cows on the line."

Rey stares.

 _Cows?_

"Cows?" She repeats her thought. Had she been looking she would have noticed the small twitch of Ren's lips, no doubt finding the whole thing hilarious, but Rey's eyes were glued onto the other man's bright orange vest and his apologetic smile.

"What do you mean cows?" She asks.

The man shrugs again. "Big things, about yay-big?" He intones, spreading his hands and taking a few steps to accommodate from side to side. Ren snorts. "They give milk?"

Rey huffs.

"I know what cows are." She replies resentfully, uncaring that she sounds childish in that moment. This whole damn trip is turning out to be a disaster. She sighs, and the train worker takes that for her giving up.

"We just have to wait until they move, ma'am. We don't want them shitting on the tracks, either."

Rey closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath.

Finn, this is all for Finn.

When had her life turned into this ginormous mess? Finn better accept her proposal or else she would probably self-combust after all of this. When she opens her eyes she offers the man the kindest, most friendly smile she can and nods. The driver tips his hat to her, to Ren, and to the other two passengers with a last word that they would be informed over the speakers when the train got moving. Rey looks at Ren.

He's fighting a smile.

"Wipe that grin off your face," she chides with a near growl, but she can't quite bring herself to be mean to him when she's still draped in his jacket and had slept for at least four hours against his shoulder. She feels a little better, she has to admit, if cold.

At the thought of being cold, a sneeze breaks. She blinks hard against the watering of eyes and rubs at her nose quickly.

Ugh. Rain. Rain and cold and pain. These were the only things she was starting to associate Ireland with. She had been told it's a beautiful country. Too bad she has seen nothing of it except rain. Her frustration mounts.

Ren tries to wipe off the smirk but he doesn't quite manage it. Instead he sits back to a normal position and pats the seat next to him for her to take it. She arches an eyebrow.

"Would you rather sit there by your lonesome, or can we get back to sleeping for a few hours?" He asks, almost playful, but she can see that he's tired as well. He should be, he'd been chasing after her all night.

Rey bites her lip. She really should say thank you. The man owes her absolutely nothing and yet here he is, looking out for her in the middle of the night, aboard a stopped-up train, because of cows . Rey scoots herself out of her seat and walks quietly to his side, sitting next to him again. The warmth of his leg against her bare thighs is a very welcome relief.

"Thank you," she offers, and he does smile then. A small, kind smile that she's not sure she's supposed to see.

"You're welcome."

He leans closer, a small offering of his shoulder, and Rey bites her lip again. She's not used to this. To touching anyone but Finn, and occasionally giving her friends hugs. Her personal bubble is the size of Manhattan and she likes to keep it that way. Still, he's offering, and he's warm, and she almost leans in when another sneeze wrenches from her. Rey has just enough time to turn her head out toward the aisle before it comes out, narrowly avoiding sneezing all over Ren. She lets out a long drawn out ' _Ughhh_ ' that Ren chuckles at. He digs into his pocket and comes out with a piece of napkin, pushing it at her under her nose.

She looks at it.

"You keep napkins in your pockets?" She asks, confused.

Ren shrugs. "I grabbed it during dinner. Never hurts to have one."

Seriously. What kind of guy—

Still, she can feel a small bead of wetness pooling at the small bridge of her nostrils and she can't be picky. She grabs it from him gingerly and then turns away to blow her nose. When she's done with it she looks at it and grimaces. Now what?

"You can put it in the pocket of my jacket," he says, looking at it with mild distaste.

Rey almost smirks at his trying to be a gentleman despite her germs being all over that napkin. She balls it up to where the germs can't touch the fabric and jams it into one of the pockets. Then she sighs. Sneezing sure can zap you of energy when you're already tired. Ren's shoulder is close enough that if she just tilts her head her temple will connect with it and she can snooze.

She doesn't know this man. He owes her nothing.

Rey closes her eyes and lets her temple connect with the fabric of his shirt. She feels him move until his head hits the back of his seat with a soft 'thud,' and they stay like that until the train starts moving a half hour later. The cows must have walked away without shitting. Her eyes flutter open as the train pulls forward, then closed again, just long enough to notice that Ren is looking down at her. A half hour delay isn't so bad.

Sleep takes her. Dreams about weddings, a family, and golden afternoons in her little New York City loft are mixed in with the odd memories of hard childhood days, faded and old even in her dreams, only to be replaced by rain.

Her body jolts forward again but this time there's a large hand at her shoulder, keeping her from bonking her head on the seat in front of her.

"Easy there," Ren murmurs as she falls back into her seat and Rey looks at him wide eyed, the screech of metal coming to a slow stop ringing in her ears.

"Please don't tell me…" she starts. Ren frowns.

"There's another stop." He finishes her sentence.

 _God—_

Rey lets out a frustrated grunt.

"What now? Is it leaves?!" She asks, and Ren chuckles. When she glares at him he schools his face to stillness and shrugs.

"We'll find out soon enough, I imagine." He offers helpfully.

Rey leans over him again and Ren leans back to accommodate. The small motion is becoming one more occurrence where she keeps sharing her personal space and he keeps allowing her into his. It barely registers in her mind. It's no different than him gathering her into his side.

The sky has started to turn _just_ so to where she can see the drivers walking up and down the tracks once more, and this time they don't come in to tell them that there are cows. Rey watches them as they crouch over puddles of water to inspect the tracks while holding umbrellas, flashing lights under the train to check something she can't quite see. Ren huffs and the warm air hits her ear.

"We might be here for a while," he says.

Rey turns her head to look at him. She's confronted with warm golden brown eyes that are staring at her face with such intensity she has to look away. Rey shifts, prying herself from her position almost on top of him.

Rey sits still and waits, determined not to let her anxious need to get to Dublin as soon as possible get to her. This might be another half hour delay. An hour total. That wouldn't be so bad. Rey gets up and pulls out her phone from her bag, stretching just a little more than necessary because curse Ren's long arms shoving the bag so far back. When she finally pries her phone out there's a crick in her neck from the pull and she purses her lips.

She turns on her phone. The battery's half dead but it's better than nothing. Ren's looking out the window at the men walking with their big black umbrellas as they check and double check the tracks, the train, anything.

There is no signal. Why was it with this country and having _no signal?!_

Rey takes a deep breath.

 _Be logical, Rey. There have been power line outages and downed phone lines from this storm. It's only logical. Just breathe._

Rey falls back on her seat next to Ren with a grunt. Ren's still looking out the window.

"There's someone coming this way," he informs the air, Rey, and the only other two passengers in the car who're sitting too far away to hear him properly.

The pudgy train worker with his bright orange vest steps back inside, shaking his umbrella out the door before surveying the occupants of this particular train car.

"Sorry folks," he begins, and Rey braces for the bad news. "We're having engine trouble."

Of course.

Of course they'd be having engine trouble. Why would a train not have engine troubles when she needs it to run smoothly? Rey's never been one to be prone to bouts of sudden displays of emotion, but she almost lets out a strangled sound in the back of her throat. Ren gives her a very cautious look.

The man leans on the handle of his umbrella after thumping it on the metal floor and lightly shakes out his jacket as well.

"We're calling for help as we speak, though it might take a little while. You should all make yourselves comfortable and we'll let you know any news. Otherwise, if you'd rather make the trek, there's a small town about…eh…a mile from here? Ey, a mile. But it's raining, so I'd recommend you stay here where it's nice and warm. Sorry about the delay, folks!"

The man sounds a little too chipper for Rey's taste. She lets out a long, measured breath, and they sit to wait out the hours.

And they wait.

And wait.

And wait.

By the third hour of just sitting Rey's about to lose it. Ren, on the other hand, is cool as a cucumber. He's got his arm propped against the window, staring out at the small bits of rain coming down. It's finally, _finally_ starting to slow down. Rey stares at the time on her phone. Three hours. She sneezes again, then finally makes up her mind.

"I'm going," she says, taking off Ren's jacket and passing it to him. His eyes swivel towards her with a deep frown.

"You're…going." Ren deadpans, his jacket draped over his knee. Rey nods.

"There's a town a mile away. I can grab a cab or something," she explains.

Pure impulse. She's been acting on pure impulse and adrenaline. But it's been three days — four, now, by the look of the sky — that she's been in this country without Finn even having any _clue_ , and by the look of the crossed out phone signal on her phone, it would be a while longer yet.

Rey stretches back up and grabs her bag, swinging it over her rapidly cooling arms and torso. She already misses his jacket, she's willing to admit that much. Rey would grab a shirt from her bag but none of them are even remotely warm enough. Stupid, to buy summer clothes without knowing the weather in this godforsaken country.

"Help is coming," Ren finally speaks, staring at the side of her face. Rey purses her lips.

"Sure, help is coming. In how many hours, though?" She asks tersely, then remembers her manners as she turns to him and gives him a smile. "Thank you for helping me so far. I… I appreciate it. And… sorry about the…you know…" she says, waving a hand in his direction. Ren only looks up at her with an arched brow in determined silence. "I hope your trip goes smoothly. Good luck."

Rey offers her hand.

Kylo's eyes slowly turn down towards her outstretched fingers. He looks out the window again for a moment and Rey's starting to feel really awkward, then he turns to her and gently grasps her hand in his.

It's startling, how much larger his hand is. It's warm, so gloriously warm, fingers long and strong around her much more slender ones. Hands that can crush. They hold hers gingerly, though, as if afraid to hurt her by simply shaking her hand. When their shake ends, she gives him one last parting smile before walking out the train car.

And right into the rain.

Thankfully it's slowed down to a bit of a drizzle, something that's ridiculously welcome compared to the absolute downpour of earlier. Her clothes had finally dried out just enough that this time they don't become sopping wet.

The drivers inspecting the engine give her a pitiful look, as if to say _you poor soul_ , and one of them offers her an umbrella but she shakes her head. She wouldn't take someone else's umbrella, especially not from someone she doesn't know. She starts her trek to that village by following the tracks. Had Rey been paying attention she would have realized that about thirty steps behind her is a tall, looming figure following her with a languid stride.

Finally, midway through the mile, she hears her name called out and spins.

Ren.

She stops and stares. He has an umbrella.

When he finally reaches her, it's with the most amused smirk on his wide, pouty lips. Rey has to look away from it.

"You really are impulsive," he comments. Rey's eyes snap back up to him and growl.

"And you're kind of stalkerish," she bites back. His smirk grows wider.

"Well, I have an umbrella. I was going to offer but—" He smarms. Rey cuts him off.

"You've been following me this whole time and just _now_ you're offering?"

Ren shrugs.

"I would have offered it to you on the train but you were so dead set on leaving," he says in a murmur, as if that should explain it. "You also look kind of adorable when you're half soaked."

Rey's nostrils flare and she almost takes a step back before she realizes he's just trying to tease. Still, though, it sets her on edge. He had been sonice earlier.

"Are you just having a bad week, are you enjoying this, or are you just predisposed to assholery?" She asks, pointing a finger at his face. He looks at it and his smirk turns into a tiny smile. Small, but sincere. When his eyes find hers again, he wipes it off his face.

"Maybe a little bit of everything," he admits, voice low and rumbling, shrugging his shoulders for the billionth time. "If you weren't so quick to try and bolt, perhaps you wouldn't be standing here like a small wet duckling."

Rey tilts her head.

He's definitely teasing.

So she lets out a huff of breath and falls in step with him. Ren changes hands on the umbrella handle so she's mostly covered. She notices that his shoulder's getting wet again. Perhaps he's predisposed to assholery, but then he does something like that. What a strange man.

So she steals another glance up at him. He's so tall. How is it legal for any man to be that tall and broad? She gulps and sets her eyes ahead, and the trek continues in silence. Rey's mind is already making plans about getting a cab and continuing on to Dublin when they finally arrive at the 'village.'

Or…

It's more like five houses surrounding the train station stop. She stares, gaping.

"Are you kidding me…?" She asks, looking around. There is most definitely not a cab service here. Even Ren has the good grace to be absolutely shocked.

He lets out a snort. "Honestly, at this point I'm sure someone must be messing with us. This is not the kind of stuff you just make up."

He lets out a breathy grunt and places his hand on the small of her back to guide Rey forward.

"Come on," he urges, "There's someone in the station."

They walk side by side and enter a small, very warm station stop where a man of maybe sixty, with salt and pepper hair that's mostly salt, is currently looking down at a screen, humming to himself some Irish song Rey has never heard of. When they finally walk up to the edge of the booth, the old man looks up and gives them a bright beam of a smile.

"Well hello there!" The booth man says, "How are ya doing? So early for anyone to stop by! Say, the train won't be here for another fifteen minutes."

"That's actually where we come from," Rey pipes in, giving him a smile, "You see, the train's stopped in its tracks. Engine trouble."

"Oh, boy. Oh boy, oh boy, well that won't do." The man says, inspecting Rey and Ren, "that could take hours yet. Say, where are you headed, young ones?"

"Dublin," both Rey and Ren respond at the same time. They look at each other.

The old man chuckles.

"I see, I see! Well, you're in good hands! But first let me…" the man starts mumbling as he looks down a list that Rey can't quite see because the booth is too far up. Ren has no trouble seeing it. The old man brings up a phone to his ear and dials a number, then starts whistling while he waits.

"Aye! Good of the morning to ya," he greets. "Say, there's a train stopped on the tracks near…"

Rey tunes the man out as he starts giving our coordinates and track names and lines, and a whole lot of other information that Rey can't be bothered to remember. She shifts her weight a little bit while Ren stands statue still.

"Oh… Oh dear," the old man says, and Rey's eyes snap up.

No.

Not _Oh Dear_. Those words _never_ came followed by good news. She leans forward and rests her hands on the edge of the booth's small window.

"I see…" The old-man whose name Rey really should ask about says, and she purses her lips. "Alright, alright. I have two kids here," he gives Rey and Ren a look, brows rising a little as he takes them in with a small smile. "Said they were from that train. I'll let them know. Thank you."

He hangs up, and Rey holds in her breath.

Please no more bad news.

Please.

"Well, I've got some bad news. The engine's dead. They've sent some engineers over but it won't be moving for a while. Not sure how that engine died, I mean…" the booth man starts rambling on, eyes going far away, "always unlucky to travel by train on Saturdays…"

Ren turns his head slowly to look at her. Rey takes in a deep breath.

"Excuse me," she says through clenched teeth, then turns on her heel and stalks out of the station. The boothman and Ren both watch her go as Rey swings the door open, then lets it shut behind her and stands out on the platform.

When she finally screams at the skies, all the men hear is a muffled " _WHY?!_ "

Rey clenches her hands into fists at her sides. She finally lets her eyes fall back down from the drizzling skies as the little droplets threaten to fall into her line of vision. Instead she stares out at the ridiculously green, ridiculously damp, ridiculously beautiful landscape that she can't bother to appreciate. She takes in a deep breath, and another, before unclenching her fists and returning back inside, looking far more composed than she feels.

At the look on her face Ren immediately bites on the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking or laughing.

"How long?" She asks with a carefully measured tone once she stops in front of the ticket booth.

"Well miss," he starts, then scratches his little beard. "Once upon a time that that track would have had more than one train going but… Nowadays it only runs the one. Not too many people taking trains, you see… and they're pulling the engine off the the track so they can lift up and fix whatever's wrong. The other passengers were already sent this way to look for accommodations."

"Accomo—" Rey huffs, " _That long?_ How long does it take to fix an engine?!" She asks, ready to stomp back all the way there and start trying to help.

She probably could, too. She'd had to deal with enough electrical wiring and had done enough engineering and tinkering in her youth to be able to at least provide _some_ help. Ren is very quiet. Smart man.

"Don't know, lass," the man offers apologetically, "but I do know that once those other people get into the village they'll take up any space open! You two are in luck, you're early. As is," he starts, already taking on the voice of a man trying to sell something, "I happen to know where the best Bed and Breakfast is this side of the tracks! I should know, my wife runs it!"

Booth man laughs and Ren bites on his lower lip, but then the older man stops dead in his tracks, all laughter dying, as if he remembered something.

"Wait but, you two are married, right?" He asks.

Rey gapes and Ren clears his throat loudly, probably trying to clear out a choking sound.

"What?" she asks, incredulous. Why would he—

"Well, I mean. I don't mind that sort of thing so much, you know — I'm old fashioned but the world moves ahead and…" he scratches his little beard, "But my wife. Now my wife. She won't have anyone if they're not proper married."

Before Rey can start in on a rant Ren places a hand on her lower back again and pulls her closer, and Rey's too stupefied to even stop him.

"We're married," he says with a sweet smile. Rey gapes at him as well, then has the sense to clamp her mouth shut and paste on a smile.

"Just married," she gives, leaning back into Ren. Was this going to become routine? Because it certainly is starting to feel like it. "We're on our honeymoon, actually," she sighs, and Ren tightens his hold as he wraps his arm around her waist. Rey resists the urge to stomp on his foot.

 _Why me?_

The short man opens the door to his booth and steps out, and he's surprisingly short. Shorter than Rey, that's for sure, but he beams up at them like a little man come out of a fairytale, far too bouncy and happy for six in the morning.

"Well good! If that's the case follow me Mister and Mrs—"

"Ren."

"Jakken."

…

The booth man stares at them and Ren clears his throat, squeezing Rey's waist. _Stay silent_.

"Ren," Ren corrects, giving a pleasant smile, the low rumble in his ribcage pressing against her arm. "Just married. It's a bit of an adjustment."

The booth man cackles and snorts at the same time. "Oh, I don't doubt it," he says. "I'm Martin, by the way. Are you two new to Ireland?"

"Yes," they both reply at the same time. Only one of them is being truthful.

"Well follow me, Mister and Mrs. Ren," Martin intones in a cheery voice, "Not like I'll be able to work much with no train running today. I'll take you over to the wife! Get you out of this cold, no?"

He gives Rey's half damp clothes a once over. "And a warm shower and meal, by the looks of it. Might as well make you comfortable!" Martin turns away from them and digs his keys out of his pocket, setting about locking up the booth and looking for the key to the main entrance next.

Rey gives the tall, looming man beside her a look. She narrows her eyes at him and he does the same in turn. They stand there glaring just a little longer before Martin turns around, at which point they both paste on pleasant smiles at each other like a truly brand new married couple.

 _Heart eyes_ , Poe called it. He laughed at Finn and Rey and told them they had heart eyes when they looked at each other. That had been early on in their relationship. Eventually the heart eyes only became something Rey got teased about. She never heard Poe tease Finn.

Rey gives Ren heart eyes and he leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead, then urges her on to walk as Martin gives them a pleased smile.

The bed and breakfast is exactly a four minute walk from the train station. It's tucked into the back, away from the other houses. Rey notes that there are indeed more than just five houses, but they're all hidden by vegetation — sleepy little cottages surrounded by nothing but greens. A couple of houses down she sees a rounded pen with ducks nibbling at the ground and a little girl tossing out grain. Early morning chores.

It looks so different from Rey's early morning as a kid, when she'd mostly spent it locked in her room until she heard Plutt leave for the day before braving the rest of the tiny cramped basement apartment she shared with the Plutts. Mrs. Plutt would already be gone by then, off to her laundry job.

While Martin walks a few steps ahead, gabbing at them over his shoulder about the beautiful little town they were in, Rey turns to Ren and narrows her eyes again.

"Did you _have_ to kiss me?" She hisses at him, low enough only for Ren's ears.

He arches an eyebrow.

"We're supposed to be madly in love and married. Or would you rather sleep with the ducks?" He asks, tilting his head towards the girl tossing grain.

Rey lets out an indignant grunt.

"I doubt we'll be here until nightfall," she huffs. Ren doesn't respond to that.

Once they enter the small little Bed and Breakfast — a small cottage that can't possibly have more than three rooms, really — they're immediately barraged by a stocky woman with bright, bright golden hair and an even brighter smile. She walks towards them with arms spread out as if to hug them. Rey immediately takes a step closer to Ren rather than do what she wants to do, which is to take a step back. Ren holds her by the waist again and gives her a reassuring squeeze. That gesture is slowly starting to become familiar. She relaxes minimally.

"Well look at you two dears!" The woman starts, voice loud and boisterous and kind, "But my word, you're all so damp and frumpled! Martin! What took you so long to bring them here—"

Then the woman turns on them.

"You _are_ a couple, right?" She asks, narrowing her eyes.

"Yes," they both reply, before Ren gives a charming smile. Rey didn't know he could even do such a thing.

"Just married a handful of days ago, actually. You wouldn't believe the time we've had," he says, tone light and pained, clearly milking it for all it's worth. "We were hoping you'd let us stay at your lovely home for a little while. Isn't that right, Sweetheart?"

His head turns down to look at Rey as if she had hung the moon for him. Rey smiles a sweet smile. The woman before them immediately melts. Ren knew how to turn on the charm, that's for sure.

"Absolutely, darling," Rey coos, before turning to the matron turning giddy over Ren's heart eyes. "If it's not too much of an imposition, of course."

The woman takes Rey's frizzy hair in, her damp clothes, her bare legs pimpling with goosebumps even in the warmth of the house. She immediately softens towards Rey's helpless look.

"Oh you sweet child," she croons, walking towards Rey and grabbing her by the arm. Rey's eyes widen at Ren and his lips jerk up slightly but he lets her go, giving his lower lip a slight lick while the woman talks, "Let's get you into something warm! Martin, dear, why don't you show Mister—"

"Ren," the tall raven-haired man offers with a kind, patient smile.

"Why don't you show Mister Ren their room while I take this lovely little lady to get warm?"

"Yes, Dear," Martin says like a well trained husband, and the last glance she gets of Martin and Ren is as they walk away towards the stairs.

Rey is bodily dragged towards a bathroom where she's given a big, fluffy towel and told to undress and get in the tub, that the water should be hot and she would make Rey's _husband_ bring her some clothes. Tea would be served once she gets out. The door slams closed behind her, leaving Rey staring.

What in the world…

She looks at the claw-foot tub.

Her skin immediately feels as if she's been drenched in ice water and she shivers.

A hot bath wasn't that bad of an idea after all.

* * *

 **What did you think? Please review!**

 **Author's note:** No romcom is ever complete without a good ol' fake marriage, and boy if this isn't going to bite these two in the ass. MWAHAHA. Also obviously everything in this story is murphy's law having its fun with these two idiots, and so everything that could go wrong has gone wrong, as prescribed, and it doesn't seem to be letting up any time soon.

Thanks to Isha-Ren for the idea on the train-stopping leaves. The cows were certainly in the movie, but I nabbed them leaves, and...you know...all other unexplained delays ;)

And thank YOU guys for all your lovely comments so far. I'm glad you're enjoying it so far and feeding my writing fuel.


	10. Chapter 10: Towels

**WARNING: There is a trigger of past abuse for Rey here. Please keep this in mind if you read ahead. Thank you.**

* * *

Rey is led away by the boisterous woman who had so very quickly started calling them both darlings, and Kylo shakes his head. The utter look of panic on Rey's face had been priceless, really. She did _not_ appreciate being hauled away.

Martin makes to grab Rey's bag where she'd dropped it on the floor. Kylo bends over quickly and snatches it before he can. The old man gives him a hesitant smile, then a well natured shrug when Kylo pulls her bag over his shoulder to rest against his, accidentally tangling the straps together.

"Right this way," Martin prompts, leading the way while rubbing his little beard, Kylo three steps behind.

He has to curl into himself in order to go up the steps, and his shoulders keep bumping against the wall. He's too big for these stairs. It makes him feel like he's trying to squeeze himself through a barbie doll house. It's a little uncomfortable, to say the least.

Theirs is the last door down the small hall. Martin gives him a wide smile as he pushes it open.

"Here we go!" He chirps, ushering Kylo in with a wave of a hand. It's not a tiny room, but it's certainly not big, either. Just enough room for a bed, a couple of bedside tables with old lamps that look like they haven't been updated in at least a decade, a tall closet to the side and, past a filmy curtain, what he can only imagine is a shower stall. He plops both her bag and his on the ridiculously small bed — that's going to make for some uncomfortable conversations later — then looks around. He walks towards the shower stall, pulling the curtain aside.

The shower head will probably spray at his chest level. He'd have to squat down to be able to wash his hair.

 _Perfect._

He hadn't told Rey that chances are they would be spending the night here. Dead engines in the middle of absolute nowhere were not a quick fix.

The bed and breakfast lady comes bouncing up the stairs with two giant white towels in her hands, flouncing into the room with a big smile. Martin had left while Kylo was inspecting the bathroom.

"Oh my dear, good to see you getting settled in!" She coos as she regards him, her cheeks turning a little pink. She's small, if wide, and he has to tuck his chin in slightly to be able to really look at her. "I just settled your wife in for a nice hot bath in the downstairs bathroom! Say, you should grab some clothes for her. She should be done in a little while! I'll bring you to her in a little bit."

"Uh…" Kylo starts, for once entirely lost on words. The woman wanted him to what? He stares at her like she's grown a second head but she simply arches her eyebrows and tilts her head back, trying her hardest to look down her nose at him. She doesn't accomplish it well. Too short.

"Sure," he adds, remembering he's supposed to be a newlywed totally in love with his wife. "Uhm," he adds, clearing his throat. "Thank you, Mrs—"

"Oh, call me Penny!" She says, swatting at him as if she's known him all her life. "And no worries! Here."

Penny shoves a pair of big, ridiculously white and fluffy towels at him. He looks at them and frowns. Why two? When he looks up at her she's giving him an innocent smile before she flails her arms.

"But go on, go on! Grab some clothes!" She says, "I'll be downstairs once you're done! I'll lead you to the bathroom, alright dear?"

Kylo stands there frowning as Penny flounces right back out the room, leaving him to gape. He shakes his head a couple of seconds later when his senses come back to him. Grab clothes for Rey.

Grab…

He stares at her bag. She _hates_ people touching her bag. She had barely allowed him to pick it up just to carry it, and this woman wanted him to go _digging_ in it? Kylo purses his lips.

That's right. Married couple.

Married couples sometimes ruffled through their partner's belongings, looking for things, or trying to be romantic by bringing them clothes while they took a shower. He starts cursing in a murmur as he turns towards the bag. This is _not_ what he'd intended when he'd brought her here. He's supposed to be a newlywed completely in love with his little brunette, beautiful wife.

He could just take the towels with him. But then Rey would have to walk all the way from the bathroom to the upstairs bedroom in nothing but a towel, and wouldn't that be uncomfortable for literally everyone involved?

Kylo opens the bag with jerky fingers and grabs the first few things that are on top, making extra careful to grab the underwear — a lacy thing that makes his heart stammer a little too uncomfortably — while his hand is wrapped under a red tank top that has far too many straps, never actually touching the lacy fabric and dropping it like a snake the second it comes out of the bag. He notices denim-like fabric and grabs that, too. Jeans.

He slowly collects it all around one of the towels, again, making very careful work of not touching her underwear, and zips Rey's bag closed again.

He grabs the bundle and pads downstairs, scrunching in on himself to avoid banging his head or shoulders on anything. It's been about fifteen minutes by then, and Rey might or might not be done with her bath, so he looks around and follows the smell of food towards the kitchen, looking for his hosts.

He finds Martin bent over a large pot of something that smells semi edible while Penny chops vegetables.

Kylo clears his throat.

"Oh there you are!" Penny chimes, wiping her hands on her floral apron as she rolls her little ankles once before walking towards him. "Come on now, we'll go get your pretty wife."

Kylo follows, feeling more and more uncomfortable as she takes him down a long, narrow hall. He looks to both sides and can see a few doors, but they're mostly closed, and Penny is chattering ahead about how wonderful it is to have newlyweds visit. It's been such a long time, and she does enjoy making it a wonderful experience for the new lovebirds. And is there anything Kylo thinks his wife would like specifically made for breakfast in bed the next morning, if they were staying? Are they staying?

Kylo barely listens but then they're coming up to the door and he steps up, ready to knock to allow Rey to prepare — not knowing that Rey had heard the voices down the hall and was _just getting up and turning around_ — when his pudgy little over-eager host swings the door right open.

He almost drops the towels and the clothes.

 _Jesus fucking—_

Rey is standing in the middle of the tub naked as the day she was born as she lets out a loud scream then—

They both notice Penny, watching Kylo's face intently. The woman had set it up. Rey's lip is slowly quivering and he narrows his eyes, trying really hard not to look at _anywhere_ other than her face, but he'd already gotten an eyeful of soft skin and pert breasts and… he breathes in deeply, his nostrils flaring.

Perhaps that's the reaction Penny had been looking for because next thing he knows he's being shoved into the small bathroom and having the door closed on him with a _"Have a lovely bath!"_ from Penny that rings hollow in his ears.

The whole thing takes less than a second. It feels like years.

Kylo immediately glues his eyes to the floor as he shoves the towels in her direction.

" _Fucking hell!_ " is the first expletive that comes to mind, but it's quickly followed by a plethora of others as they flourish in his panicked brain. Rey snatches the towel from him and her clothes fall out along with the second towel, and that's when he hears it.

The muffled, strangled sound that could be a half sob, a half scream. His eyes widen and he dares look up at her before jerking his eyes back down. There are towels on the floor.

Her breathing comes hard and quick and Kylo starts panicking.

"Rey?" He asks, tone tense, "Rey. Are you covered?" He holds up a hand to further block his view. There's a small whimper.

"Sweetheart I need you to verbally tell me if you're covered." He speaks, and it starts hitting him all at the same time.

He's seen this reaction.

He's seen this reaction over and over and over every time a lost soul would stumble into his office to give a recount of their abuse. He starts cursing, and this time it has nothing to do with the eyeful of skin he'd gotten.

He should have known.

"Rey," he repeats, swallowing as he waits. She lets out a soft, stuttered assent.

"I'm going to look up now," he informs, keeping his hands where she can see them. "Can I look up now?"

She assents again after a long pause. She's rooted to her spot in the water, towel tightly clutched against her chest, staring at him with impossibly wide eyes.

She's reacting. She's reacting the same way somebody with a rough past would have if they'd just been walked in on at their most vulnerable. Rey swallows.

"Rey…" he starts, palms out, and she flinches. "I'm going to pick up this second towel and wrap it around you. Is that okay?" He asks with his best, most placating tone. He'd perfected this tone. He only hopes it will work now.

Rey stares hard at him. Kylo curses an extra twenty colorful swear words in a heartbeat inside his brain. She gives a tiny nod.

Kylo walks towards the towel he'd dropped on the floor and picks it up, gingerly approaching her, and he doesn't miss the flinch. He bites hard on his tongue, then gently, so very gently, unfolds the big towel and wraps it around her shoulders like the sort of safety blanket they give traumatized victims at the scene of a crime.

He backs away as fast as humanly possible. Her eyes fall on her clothes on the floor. Kylo turns towards the corner of the bathroom, giving her her privacy, and lowers his head against the wall. He takes a deep breath.

"Rey…" he murmurs, and he can hear her having an emotional breakdown in the tub.

Rey's raspy breathing, hiccupy and uneven as she tries to bring it painfully through her nose, out through her mouth, fills the room. It's faint, the sound of lungs trying to be restarted and refusing to engage, dragging through her teeth when her nose can't bring in enough air. Kylo curses to himself.

"Rey can you hear me, sweetheart?"

He should have known.

Her flinching whenever touched.

Her locking the bathroom door.

Her avoidance of prolonged eye contact.

Her shifting away from him, then only very begrudgingly accepting his proximity when she needed help.

Her constant wariness about him giving her anything, and wondering if he would ask for anything in return.

He'd seen it a million times.

He swallows back another curse. Penny's barging in on her had made Rey trigger, and all he can hear is her strangled attempts at breathing.

"Rey?" He asks again, hands splayed at his side, always where she can see them, voice calm and soothing. "Please respond."

Rey lets out a soft sound again, and it's a yes. She's frozen in place, paralyzed, like so many people who end up having to confront their fears.

"Okay," he explains, "Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to stay _right_ here, and I will not move a muscle, and you can get out of the tub and get changed. Is that okay? You can get dressed and stand there as long as you need, and I will not move until you tell me to."

There's silence. He almost wants to bang his head against the wall.

He'd been so wrapped up in trying to keep her from becoming a victim of assault, in his own little amusement at her constant defiance, that he hadn't thought to analyze her behavior, hadn't taken the time to notice she's a victim herself. Of what sort of assault, he's not sure, but by her reaction, it's not pretty.

He hears water slush around. She's moving. He lets out a soft breath and stands exactly where he promised he'd be, hearing fabric move as she hurriedly slips pieces of clothing on. Her breathing slows down the more clothes she manages to slip into, but Kylo doesn't dare look. They stand there for a long time until she finally speaks.

Her voice is a chip of ice.

"You touched my things."

Kylo cringes, visibly flinches.

"I only grabbed what was necessary. It was me or have the woman touch them," he explains. "I am so very sorry."

More silence. Kylo looks up at the ceiling, noticing the small little bit of yellow stain at the very spot where the ceiling met the walls in the corner.

"You still touched them. Without my permission," she bites in a small hiss. Kylo bites his cheek.

"I know. I apologize."

The minutes stretch on, which is a good thing, because Rey lets out a long, measured breath.

"Turn around," she speaks, and her voice is regaining some of the assured tone he's come to associate with her.

"Are you sure?"

She'd rebounded quickly.

Calming herself down isn't new to her.

That almost hurts to think about. How long?

"Yes," she replies, voice calm.

Kylo turns around very, very slowly, avoiding looking at her until she asks him to. When she does, another sign that she's at least talked to someone, Kylo swallows.

"I am so very sorry," he repeats, and he's apologizing for much more than just this incident. He should have _known_. It is his job to know.

She nods, looking out the tiny window. The day's pale light is slowly giving way to sunlight.

"We can go, right now. We can find a different place," he offers. "Just say the word."

Rey turns to look at him then, and she watches him for a very long time. There's several long feet of space between them, and Kylo presses himself against the wall, about as far back as he can stay from where Rey stands with hair still dripping onto the almost bare shoulders of her summer shirt. She inspects him as she would a specimen on the table, and he allows her to. He has no right to be in this bathroom.

"She set us up," she finally speaks, lips thinning. "She thinks we're on our honeymoon, and she set us up."

She points to a third, unused towel. Kylo had not needed to bring her one. Kylo glues his eyes to his hands.

Then there's laughter.

It's panicky and shuddery and just this side of hiccupy, but it's laughter, and so his eyes fly up to her face. Her eyes are a little damp."We can go," he offers again. Rey shakes her head.

"If you haven't noticed, there's exactly like ten other houses in this place and none other had a sign that read Bed and Breakfast," she says, and he frowns. She'd bounced back extremely fast. So, professional help, then. Kylo gulps down empty air again.

"Are you alright?" He asks, voice soft, the same sort of tone he used with so many teenage girls who started falling apart next to their parents inside his office. "Do you want me to do anything?"

Rey lets out a rattly breath that makes his chest constrict. Then she shakes her head and looks him dead in the eyes.

"Not touch my clothes, for one," she states. Kylo nearly gives himself a crick in his neck from how quickly he sets to nodding, then giving verbal assent. Rey smiles.

She looks around the small room, at the clawfoot tub's sudsy water glinting in the pale morning sunshine, then at the towels. At the white hexagonal tile and the little antique flower vase full of dried flowers and herbs.

"Thank you," she speaks, and Kylo stops breathing. She's apologizing. Offering him her thanks is an apology, and he cringes. Rey continues, "For, you know…"

He nods again then slowly moves towards the door and opens it. She gives him a cautious look before squaring her shoulders and walking forward. It brings her ridiculously close to him. He watches her like a hawk.

If he thought he'd take her to Dublin so that she wouldn't be assaulted, he's _definitely_ not letting her out of his sight now. When she turns to look at him and gives him a faint smile, he frowns.

"So, what's for breakfast?" She asks, trying to change the topic. Kylo very carefully keeps two feet behind her at all times.

"You sure you're okay with this?" He asks, giving the back of her head a pointed look. Rey stops and he almost jerks back to avoid physical contact, but she reaches around and grabs him by his shirt to steady him.

"I'm fine. Turns out my husband knows how to treat a lady."

Kylo's eyes flutter just a hair before he focuses on her entirely, taking in every plane of her face, every small brow hair, every single stray strand that's just starting to curl from her bath. "We can go elsewhere."

Rey shakes her head, but she seems to appreciate the offer. The next smile comes a little easier.

"We'll just give them hell for it. What do you say?"

Kylo arches an eyebrow.

"You're joking," he deadpans. Rey pinches her button nose.

"Only just a tiny bit, but not really."

He regards her anew. Rey Jakken, girl he's known for three days and some change, has two little horns hiding somewhere. He shakes his head.

What has he gotten himself into?

* * *

Kylo keeps his hands to himself except for when he absolutely must put on an intense session of a public display of affection. Rey's acting skills are top notch, because she behaves as though she'd had the best of baths with her husband, giving him coy little smiles that sometimes make his heart stutter for all the wrong reasons, especially in the face of this new realization. She leans into him as they eat cranberry scones and sip on their drinks, and Rey teases him over his weak tea - asking him to point his pinky just for show - when compared to her strong black coffee. He snorts and complies, and it seems to please their hosts greatly.

The second Penny and Martin clear the table and walk away with the dishes, though, Kylo drops his hand. Rey gives him a shy half smile and stares at her cup of coffee.

"About…" she starts, and Kylo shakes his head hard.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. You do not owe me or anybody else an explanation," he states, clearly emphasizing every word so there is no mistaking it for anything else. Rey lets out a relieved sigh and nods.

Then she turns around, grabs a linen napkin in a rush and sneezes into it, away from him. Kylo frowns, and Rey, as if sensing what he's about to say, waves him away before stealing his half eaten scone.

At least she has an appetite.

They fall into companionable silence for the next few hours. When the sun finally goes up around noon, and they're still sitting at the now vacant dinner table, Martin comes around to tell them that the train's still being worked on. Sorry, folks, but it seems like you two might be in for a long one, and would you consider staying for the night? Rey stiffens and Kylo gives her a pointed glance, asking silently again if she wants to leave, but she shakes her head at him. Kylo lifts himself up with a sigh and follows Martin.

"We might as well," he replies lightly. "Do you take a card or would you prefer cash?" He had plenty in his wallet.

Martin's fine with just a card.

"Leaves a paper trail, you see. Taxes," the man explains, that last word coming out with the unsavory tone of a man who disliked his tax rates. Kylo nods noncommittally, keeping a close eye on Rey where she sits nursing her now awfully cold coffee.

"Will there be any more visitors?" Kylo asks. Martin shrugs.

"There's an italian couple staying here but they've taken out of town for the week! Should be back tonight by dinner, if I remember correctly. Penny's dead set on cooking tripe. Some new recipe she got off the internets."

Kylo makes a face. He hears a choked grunt from Rey.

Nope. Definitely not tripe.

"I can cook," he offers, not knowing exactly where that came from. Both Rey and Martin turn to look at him.

"You can?" Martin asks, and he can almost see the same question on Rey's face. She arches an eyebrow at him, he arches one back.

 _What?_

Rey's lips quirk up and she turns her eyes back to her drink.

 _That's what I thought._

He lets out a small huff then pulls out his wallet and hands over his card. When he comes back to the table Rey shoots him a dirty look.

"You have to stop doing that," she hisses under her breath as they listen to Penny and Marvin coo at each other. Turns out the old couple were very into their significant others. Rey pinches her nose.

"I got you into this mess," he hisses back, "let me at least try and make up for it, will you?"

Rey stops short from her nose pinch and mock gag noises to look at him. Her face goes blank and she studies him with sharp, quick hazel eyes, making it rather hard to look away. The light coming from the window sets her hair on fire, a beautiful golden halo reflecting off loose strands and stray hairs, and he can see himself reflected in her irises. Somewhere inside him a heart string tugs, humming, and Kylo forces himself to swallow.

She gifts him with a small smile then and returns to her half empty mug, thumbing the handle absentmindedly. She'd allow him this. Kylo nods to himself, smiling even when she can't see it. He looks around. They've been left alone. Kylo steals a glance at Rey.

He can't help himself.

She seems oblivious to it, though, and soon enough Martin is barreling back into the room to hand Kylo his card back. Her eyes swing up to the man and her cheeks flush. She addresses Martin.

"Say, are your phones working? We haven't had a cellphone signal in days. I would like to call my—" she stops, realizing she'd been just shy of saying ' _boyfriend_ ' before she amends, "parents."

Martin gives her a wide smile.

"Oh sure! We've been lucky. Very lucky, ey. Our lines are still somehow operational. Come right this way, lass! I hear two towns over they got this huge tree that fell and they're still dealing—"

Rey gets up from her chair to follow Martin. Before he can react, Rey leans down and places a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Be right back, darling. I'll give mom your regards."

It burns where her lips had touched.

He leans back into his seat, wondering what he got himself into as the last of her red strappy summer shirt disappears around the corner.

* * *

 **What did you think? Please review!**

 **Author's note:** And suddenly so many of Rey's oddball reactions seem to make sense, no? still. it needed to be brought to light. This shit show's nowhere near over, haha. A huge thanks to everyone who's written and commented to me about this story, I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH ;O;


	11. Chapter 11: Vegetables

Rey's heart is still hammering at erratic intervals. She throws a look back at Ren through a small window. He's sitting at the table that's obviously too small for him, worrying over his credit card as he flips it over and over for something to do with his hands, bathed in early afternoon light. Her lip catches between her teeth, then Rey picks up the phone.

Finn's number is burned into the back of her mind. It had been for years.

Thankfully there's a ring. She sucks in a breath.

Finally.

On the third ring, there's a voice. Finn's voice.

" _Hello?_ " He asks, curious and open, his usual demeanor. He never turned down callers he didn't know, never yelled at telemarketers, never chastised people for dialing the wrong number. He was Finn, and she had counted on it when she'd called. " _Who is this?_ "

"FINN!" she squeaks into the line. "Finn, it's Rey! Oh, thank God."

There's a beat of silence.

" _Peanut_?" Rey can hear the sounds of people talking in the back about work, " _Why are you calling me from an unidentified numb—_ "

She hears him move away from his phone as his voice gets a little distant. Then it comes back in a second. " _An Irish number?!_ "

He sounds dumbfounded. Rey grins.

This.

This is why she'd put up with everything she had.

"YES!" she says, pressing the receiver closer to her ear. "Yes! I wanted to surprise you!"

" _PEANUT!_ " There's delighted laughter from the other side and Finn immediately starts talking in a rush the way he does when he gets excited. " _Wait but, where are you? When did you get here? Are you at the airport?! I'll go pick you up!_ "

Rey grins, eyes crinkling. From the window she catches a glimpse of Ren, who must have heard her delighted squeals. She shoots him a friendly smile then returns her eyes to the phone hanging on the wall. "Oh Finn, you wouldn't believe what I've been through, but no, I'm not in Dublin. I'm in…uh…"

She's in… She doesn't know exactly where she is. She bites her lip.

"Well, I'm on _my way_ to Dublin. I should be able to get there soon? I have to find a ride first."

" _Wait, you have to…_ " Finn starts, then stops, and she can almost see the crinkle of brows as he frowns, suddenly confused. Rey interrupts.

"Don't worry about it. I'll call you when I get there, okay? Oh, it's so good to hear your voice, Finn!"

Poe's voice comes from the other side, shouting at Finn to hurry up and come have beers with them. Poe must have flown in early. She smiles. Her friend would be around to see her proposal.

" _You too, Peanut. Take care getting here, alright, Rey? Call me_ immediately _._ "

He makes her promise. Rey's a little too delighted at finally having made contact with the one constant person in her life. She'd promise him the world in that moment, all thoughts of uncomfortable discussions about babies back in her loft completely forgotten.

They exchange a few more pleasantries and Rey's riding the high when she returns to Ren, all thoughts of that horrible bathroom experience put behind in her delight. He's watching her patiently, his head tilted almost adorably as he takes her in with an arched eyebrow.

"I take it he approved?" He asks, and Rey grins.

"He's excited I'm here," she provides, floating on a little bit of cloud nine. Ren gives her a small smile and a nod.

"Well, it's certainly nice to see you smiling," he says, voice low and somewhat… relieved? She shakes her head.

He's stuck on the bathroom incident. She sighs, a bit of her happy cloud dissipating as she takes a seat next to him. He'd been kind, looking after her and repeatedly apologizing, and despite her displeasure at him touching her clothes, Rey had had enough hours to realize that it hadn't been his fault. She could deal with this. She'd dealt with Plutt all her life. She'd dealt with greasy men who wanted things from her all her life. It had been nice to find one that didn't, and he's a perfect stranger.

She'd been taken by surprise. Her brain had shut down and Rey's body had tensed to run, naked as the day she was born, if necessary. The moment had only lasted a second, and Rey knew he'd seen _all of her_ , yet when the door had shut he'd immediately turned around and…

He'd turned around and talked her through calming down. She only knew one other person who could do that. Her therapist. He's dealt with this before.

His immediate response to make himself nonthreatening as he faced the wall, verbally requesting acknowledged permission to every one of his movements, had been the one thing she'd needed in order to break free of the choking fear and terror that'd held her by the throat.

She gives him a bright smile, refusing to allow the incident to dampen her mood. She could deal with this. She's seeing Finn soon. She could worry about the repercussions of this later.

"What, you mean you don't enjoy me being helpless, crabby and _impulsive_?" Rey teased. She could laugh about it now, now that she'd had contact with Finn.

Ren snorts but his eyes twinkle a little.

"Helpless duckling," he murmurs.

Just as she's about to retort with something about his jerkface manners, Martin barrels right in with a small hand shovel in his hand.

"Ah! I see you two are still here! What're you doing? Come outside, come outside! This is the first bit of sunshine we've had in _days_! Don't want to miss it now, do ya?"

Ren and Rey look at each other, and Ren gives her a small shrug, stretching his limbs like tree branches reaching out. When he comes to stand next to her, Rey smiles. He's so big in such a small house. Ren seems hyperaware of his size in the room, flinching away from furniture and the mantel of the fireplace as if scared to break something by brushing into it, immediately relaxing and decompressing once they reach the fresh air outside.

They follow Penny's off-key singing all the way to the back where Rey and Ren find her bent over a little plot of land, fastidiously pulling out weeds. Martin's over to the other side knee-deep in dirt tending to a small but very lush vegetable patch. Rey smiles. She had always wanted a garden, but the only variety she could get were the sad potted plants that she'd perch on her fire escape. The plants always died so quickly.

"Sit, sit!" Penny urges, turning around and smiling widely at them from under her wide brimmed hat, turning pink and blotchy from the sun despite the coverage. The woman was not made for the sun. Rey looks around.

It's bright and lovely, the first true sunshine since she'd arrived. Whatever Irish gods were looking down on them had finally decided to ease up on the pain. While she's looking around at the lush vegetation and the beautiful flowers, Ren's looking around for a spot to sit.

There's only one open space. She catches him pursing his lips before her brain catches up to the situation.

Oh.

The other seat is covered with dirty vegetables and soaking wet from where Martin had been piling them up. The old man hollers at them. "I'm getting you as many vegetables for dinner as you'd like, Mr. Ren! Anything in particular?"

Ren looks at the chair, lips still tight.

"No, thank you. You've done an excellent job." His deep baritone almost disguises the small amount of sarcasm Rey has come to recognize. Almost. "A bit of everything's fine."

Penny's still humming rather shrilly and Rey looks at the man next to her, until they notice their host looking at them carefully from the edges of her hat.

Right.

Ren takes a deep breath and arches an eyebrow at Rey.

Another out.

 _Just say the word,_ that small expression seems to say. Rey grins. She'd talked to Finn. She could deal with this.

Rey grabs her 'husband's' hand and pulls him to the white wrought iron bench that's really only big enough for one, then gently guides him to sit with a joke about him having to be her cushion because wrought iron is too hard on her delicate behind. He smirks and shakes his head, but his eyes are those of a trapped animal. He doesn't want to be this close, probably because of what had happened inside. Rey swallows. He'd respected her. Inside that bathroom, Ren had done everything in his power to ensure she didn't go over a precipice in her panic, and he'd respected her. Somehow she knew he'd respect her now. That's the only thing keeping her from turning around and bolting inside. That and her happy-high from talking to Finn.

 _I can do this. It's all pretend, anyway. He's a gentleman._

When he's properly seated and his knees part, Rey walks in between them and promptly perches herself on his left thigh, a little bit stiff. Rey forces her body to relax.

His arms come up on instinct, one hand curled into her hip, the other wrapping around her legs so that his forearm rests on her thigh. Penny seems to have decided this was acceptable for a newly married couple. Rey bites back the desire to laugh. This is all insane, and leaning into this man as if he were truly her husband was starting to become a little too easy.

Her breath catches when he leans forward as if to kiss her earlobe, her hair cascading around his face. It's enough to hide his lips as hot air heats her ear when he whispers.

"Are you sure you want to do this? I promise you, we can leave."

Rey swallows hard and turns to give him a smile, and up close like this, with the light hitting him just right, his eyes turn gold. His lashes are fuller than she'd expected them to be, thick and long and beautifully glossy. His face's covered in tiny little beauty marks. For a moment she forgets what she's meant to say as she takes them in, then she wraps her one arm around his massive shoulders.

Boy, they are massive. They had _looked_ massive, but feeling them under her fingers is an entirely different beast.

Rey leans in close to hug him, resting her chin on his shoulder where Penny can't see her or hear her murmuring.

"Just one night. I'll be fine. Thank you, though…"

His fingers at her hip tighten slightly and she feels the same familiar rub of his thumb pressing into her skin. She wonders if he's even aware that he does that. When his chest rumbles in reluctant assent, Rey smiles and allows herself to look around over his shoulder, chin pressing into his t-shirt.

It was such a sleepy place. Green and lush and basked in golden light. Rey could see herself in a place like this. A small sleepy place all to herself to plant flowers and vegetables in during the day, and sit by a cozy fireplace at night. Quiet and beautiful and removed from the crazy atmosphere of the city that never sleeps. A nice daydream for when reality set back in in a few days and she has to return to her apartment. Staying with Finn in Dublin would be a dream but she probably should go back after he accepts. Life doesn't necessarily stop for marriage proposals.

"So, how did you two meet?" Comes Penny's light, curious voice. Ren's hand immediately tenses as he tightens it into her thigh protectively, pulling her in just so. Even his knees draw closer to cage her in. Rey's head jerks away from his shoulder into full sitting position, straightening her back. They give each other a glance then paste on sickly sweet smiles. This too is becoming too easy.

It's Ren who speaks.

"She asked me for the time," he responds with a shit-eating grin on his face. Rey smacks him gently on the shoulder where Penny can't see, and when he turns that grin on her it stops being shitty and becomes bright and genuine. He looks back at Penny, continuing his story.

"It was years ago, but I still remember how she looked perfectly. Tired and small and adorably bedraggled, and with no cellphone charge. When I saw her…well…" Ren's now lying through his teeth.

In truth Rey had looked like a hot mess. Adorably bedraggled was not what she would have called herself. Rey almost giggles at the hilarity of it all, but allows him to spin his tale of love at first sight.

"You should have _seen_ her. Tiny and so very cute," he turns to her and plants the softest kiss on her nose, "and with that cute button nose of hers." He tilts his head, taking in her eyes, "and those gorgeous eyes. And that beautiful pout. I said to myself… she'll be my wife one day."

Rey's cheeks heat up three hundred degrees. Still, she bites back the urge to explode with laughter. This was so, _so_ far removed from the truth — still, there was just enough there about the time to make it easy for them both to remember. The best lies always were based in truth. To Penny, the blush on her cheeks is that of a woman feeling entirely flattered. Rey's most certainly dying a little of embarrassment inside.

"She's definitely a beauty!" Penny pipes, this time turning a very bright, very genuine smile on Rey. Ren nods, leaning his head until his chin rests on her shoulder, and he's looking at her as though she were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

The flush overtaking her cheeks now is very real. Rey had never thought herself beautiful in that way. Pretty, perhaps, but not beautiful. She had to give it to him, though. The man could act. At least his tale is done now—

"She was just standing there," he murmurs, loud enough for Penny to hear but still soft enough for it to send shivers down Rey's spine. His hand moves up to her back and he works the shiver out of her with long, strong fingers. "Looking like a petite helpless angel, asking me for the time. What's a man to do in the face of that?"

Rey narrows her eyes at him, hoping it looks like a teasing, knowing smile as she chides him.

"Oh sweetie, stop. I do not look anything like an angel," she purses her lips on the edge of a smile.

Penny is absolutely eating this up by the bushel.

Rey tips her head, dislodging his chin from her shoulder and his lids hang heavy as he takes her in, the same offer to walk away lingering in the air mixed in with a careful study of her features. She forces her smile to widen before turning to Penny and teasing with a hand in the air in an _I mean look at him_ gesture.

"You should have seen _him!_ Tall, dark, handsome. You see these shoulders? I felt so small. And his voice…" She says conspiratorially. Ren leans in and rubs his nose gently on her jaw. Penny looks ready to drop from the ridiculous amount of romance happening in front of her eyes. Rey grins. "It liquified my knees."

They would give this woman _hell_. Perhaps hell would come in the form of a heart attack from an overdose of romance. Rey's hand, the one resting over his shoulder, moves to dig into the soft hairs at the nape of his neck and Rey feels him give an involuntary shiver. Still, the show must go on, so she caresses there gently. She feels the intake of air against her jaw.

"He's such a gentleman, and so very sweet. I was absolutely _done for_."

Martin's watching from far away with dreamy eyes as he pulls out dirty carrots from the ground. The man looks at his wife, a look that Penny can't see, and gives the sweetest smile Rey has seen on the old man. Martin's crazy for his wife. Even after all this time of marriage. Despite Penny's crazy antics, Rey's heart warms.

So that's what a loving relationship looks like as it ages and strengthens.

That thought gets interrupted by the soft brush of Ren's lips to her jawline as he murmurs, for her ears only, perhaps, "You're too good to me."

Her eyes almost flutter shut and she forces them wide open before pulling away slowly on pretense of it getting a little warm outside. His hand hasn't stopped working at her back.

Martin, seeing the moment finished, calls Ren over.

"Come, come! Please tell me what else you'd like for dinner. We have rabbits and chickens in the back. Plenty fresh…still walking!" Martin cackles as if he'd made the biggest joke in the world.

Ren's lips quirk up slightly and he nudges her gently until Rey stands before disentangling himself from her and walking over to Martin. They take off to go see the still-walking dinner choices, talking amongst themselves good-naturedly, leaving Rey and Penny behind.

Penny wipes sweat off her tomato red cheeks and, for once, gives Rey a kind look.

"You got lucky there, lassy," Penny speaks, no ulterior motive in her voice or actions this time. "Not many men come around that look at their woman the way that boy looks at you, let me tell you. You should cling to him for dear life."

Rey nods, unsure as to what to say, and Penny smiles. It's a far away smile.

"He reminds me of my Martin a little. I mean, sure, Martin does not have the muscles on him that boy has," Penny cackles. Rey flushes, "But he was a looker! And so kind. Your husband looks like he's made of the right sort of stock. Keep him."

Rey offers a quivering smile and muttered gratitude, then offers to help Penny.

Penny pulls out a pillow for Rey to kneel on and they spent the rest of the hour pulling weeds and tending flowers in blessed silence for once. She doesn't like the woman, not really, but at least she can warm up to her just this tiny bit. Rey loves flowers.

When Ren finally comes back with a dead chicken in his arms and a basket for Martin's vegetables he stops dead in his tracks. His eyes rove over her now dirty arms — somehow pulling weeds entails Rey's arms getting dirty to the elbow — and the smudges on her cheeks from where she'd rubbed away the heat, dust on her jeans and already turning a shade darker. She'd have strap tan marks on her back.

He shakes his head.

Rey gets up. She'd have to wash her hands so she could try to help with dinner, even if she's not a fantastic cook. She owed him that much.

"Helpless duckling," he remarks in a sing song as he passes her by on long legs.

Penny chuckles.

* * *

Penny's such a loathsome, meddlesome woman. Lol.

 **What did you think? Please review!**

 **Author's note:** Thank you guys so much for your patience and sorry for the delay! I had a crap month or so worth of health problems and wasn't able to keep up with the updating, but we're back! enjoy!


	12. Chapter 12: White Wine & Brandy

**We're back!**

 **Thank you so much** to **all reading and commenting!**

sharkohen - xD NOTHING QUITE LIKE GARDENING, I SAY! Thank you so much, hon. I'm glad you're liking it ;D have fun with the guessing mwahaha.

peaches-hime: EEYYY THANK YOU! A smit smitten? ;) ;) i'd say a lot smitten. he's an idiot.

MamaStreet - thank you so very much! glad you like it.

Onward!

* * *

Kylo walks into the kitchen still shaking his head after the fantastic view he'd gotten of Rey kneeling, plucking weeds and tending plants until she was covered in dirt to her elbows. He'd gone around back and spent far too much time talking to Martin about cooking, finding out that the man was not only a giant food enthusiast but also forever cursed to his wife's horrible meals. He'd felt so bad he'd decided to cook him something a little extra special.

Rey follows in behind him, walking over to the sink and quietly soaping up her arms. Kylo looks at her back, at the way the light glints around her from the small window by the sink, and then back down at his ingredients. He'd been glad for the time he'd spent selecting a chicken, trying his hardest to get his heart to calm the fuck down after having spent way too long holding Rey in his arms.

 _Get a hold of yourself, you idiot. Remember the bathroom. Remember the boyfriend._

He barely knows her. She has a life she's trying to move forward, if her insistence to get to Dublin is anything to go by, and he has no right to take any of this charade to heart. Twenty minutes on a white bench, with the girl on his lap, does not change that fact.

Kylo takes in a deep breath and turns to her again.

"Pass me that pan, will you?" He asks, pointing to one of the deep pans hanging from a peg above the sink.

Rey, ever helpful, grabs for it and hands it over immediately. Martin and Penny had left him free reign of the kitchen until the meal was over, with Penny excusing herself, telling them she would go do a few special chores. Rey and Kylo had looked at each other and arched identical eyebrows, but said nothing. He averts his eyes the second the pan's in his hands.

They circle each other for a handful of minutes, Kylo digging around in too-small, too-low cupboards for ingredients as he runs a mental list of what he can throw together for dinner, grabbing a bottle of white wine and chicken broth. It wasn't reduced chicken broth, only the store bought kind, but it would do. Rey mostly dances around him, looking for anything to help with. He passes her the bottle of wine.

"Drinking so early?" She asks, arching an eyebrow at him. Kylo scoffs as he steals a glance but quickly bends his head away while looking for a cutting board.

"It's not for drinking," he murmurs, digging around in the bottom cupboards.

He almost has to kneel in order to look in. Why is everything so damn small in this house? Rey leans over, enjoying the advantage of having her center of gravity be that much closer to the floor, and pushes him gently aside.

"What're you looking for?" She asks, and so he tells her. Kylo moves away instantly, taking in a deep breath, and goes about looking for other ingredients.

Slow roasted chicken with a white wine glaze would work well. He looks at the vegetables, at the shallots, at anything but Rey.

"So, uhm…" she starts, as if having read his mind.

"I'm sorry," he immediately cuts her off as his eyes glue themselves to the small picture of a kitten on the wall, not wanting to have her be the one to bring it up. "For out there, I'm sorry."

There's a tense moment of silence.

Then giggling.

"But did you see Penny's face?" She asks, and Kylo looks out towards the living room. No one can hear them. Rey gets up and passes him the cutting board. "She was eating it right up! I hope she chokes on it."

The last is said in such a mumble that Kylo can't help himself. He laughs, shaking his head.

"You have a mean streak in you, don't you, duckling?" He asks, then takes in air.

 _Watch your stupid mouth, Kylo._

Rey only gives him an impish smile, though.

"What can I help with?" She asks, showing him her now clean hands and arms. He arches an eyebrow.

"You sure you want to help?"

Rey huffs.

"I'm not as helpless as you think I am," she retorts.

So Kylo shrugs and hands her the vegetables to chop.

It turns out she's exactly as helpless as he thinks she is. Her chopping is slow and messy, but as the minutes pass while Kylo plucks and cleans the chicken, Rey starts to hum. He relaxes minimally, popping open the bottle of wine.

Rey grabs it absentmindedly and takes a swig, and Kylo shakes his head, busying himself with stuffing the chicken instead. The kitchen warms as the temperature from the heating oven increases. He ties up the chicken's legs and wings with some twine, provided by Martin, then pops it all in the oven.

It's so domestic, he realizes. So different from what his life had been four days ago, he muses as he sidesteps around the petite girl cheerfully destroying vegetables while humming.

"Happy?" He asks carefully, and Rey turns a small smile on him.

Of course she'd be happy. She got to talk to her boyfriend.

"What are we cooking?" She asks instead. Kylo grabs the bottle of wine and stares at it. There'd be plenty for the glaze. He takes a swig.

"Slow roasted chicken with a white wine shallot glaze, and vegetables with rice. If you stop destroying the vegetables, that is."

Rey snorts, clearly affronted at his commentary on her cooking skills.

"Well, fine," she huffs at him, pointing the knife up at his nose. Not close enough to threaten, though. Kylo smirks, leaning forward and wrapping his much larger hand around hers until she's forced to give up the knife. He nudges her away from the cutting board and sets to cutting the rest of the vegetables.

"Can I do anything else?" She asks, helplessly looking around. It's endearing, really, how much she wants to help out.

"You can sit over there and look pretty, and tell me what you and Penny talked about," he says playfully, striking a conversation as the sound of the knife clunks against the wooden board every time he brings it down on a piece of shallot. Rey pinches her nose.

"The woman is a nightmare," she groans. Understatement of the century, "But apparently she thinks very highly of you."

Kylo turns his head slowly to look at her, stopping mid-chop. He narrows his eyes.

"Is that so?" He asks. Rey hums, but he doesn't miss the soft shade of pink that graces her cheeks so he looks away. He should drop it already. She makes a grab for the bottle and takes a hard swig.

The rest of the time is spent in silence, until Rey picks up her humming again. She has a surprisingly pleasant singing voice. Kylo grabs a pan and gets to making the glaze while Rey beats a rhythm on the table with her fingernails in the heart of the golden afternoon light. The sizzle of broth and butter cooking behind him hides the painful thudding in his chest when he turns around to look at her.

 _You're so good to me._ He'd whispered into her jawline, nuzzling it with a tenderness he normally did not possess.

Kylo hadn't meant to say that. Or do that. That hadn't been part of the acting. It had just slipped out. He can still feel the weight of her thighs burning into his lap. Four days and he's calling her pet names and whispering words into her ear. He swallows, but the thought flies away when Rey turns her head and lets out a hard sneeze into her arm.

Well, that's one way to make his heart stop doing small somersaults.

When she looks at him her nose is red and her eyes pinched, watering. He'd laugh if not for how miserable she looks in that moment.

"Gross," he comments lightly even as he turns to grab her a paper towel. Rey grumbles and sets about to discreetly cleaning her nose, face away from him so he can't watch. He rolls his eyes. "You should stop drinking now."

He makes to grab for the wine bottle and Rey narrows her eyes at him.

"… Or not," he amends, sighing. "Allergies?"

Rey shrugs. "Maybe."

He shakes his head. Talk of germs was never a pleasant topic of conversation.

And so Rey sits in her chair, humming while playing with a discarded bit of vegetable, and Kylo sets about finishing their meal in the comfortable warmth of the kitchen. He finally snatches the bottle of wine from her and there's only just enough to make the glaze. He'd have to buy these people some more wine.

The vegetables get tossed in olive oil and the rice gets cooked in what's left of the broth, and twenty minutes later dinner's almost ready to eat. Rey leaves to go get Penny and help the woman set the table. The space gives him time to think.

 _What am I even doing?_ He muses.

He should have been at Luke's already, trying to get that pub up and running, not here, cooking for a tiny girl and four people he doesn't necessarily know. That one couple would be arriving soon. Still, it's a distraction, and, if he's honest with himself, Rey and the crazy antics up until now had given him something to take his mind away from Phasma and Hux. The thought of his girlfriend and his partner make his skin boil so he flips the vegetables harder than necessary and focuses instead on the soft sound of Rey's laughter as it floats from the dining room to his ears.

He couldn't let her go by herself to Dublin. Not after what he'd found out. Kylo had immediately become protective against his better judgement, but he couldn't help it. No one should have to go through that. He should know.

Rey pops her head into the kitchen just as he's going down his own personal path of self-hate, giving him a wide smile.

"It smells amazing," she praises, taking in a deep breath. "We're ready for you. And the other couple just got here."

Then she bolts right back out, leaving him to stare, and he hisses when a hot drop of olive oil sizzles and jumps up off the pan onto his forearm. Martin comes in, also praising him over the absolute smell - the man looks like he hasn't seen a proper meal in years, and perhaps he hasn't - and helps him bring the dishes over to the table where Penny and Rey have set it up with fresh flowers from the garden. The dishes also look like the fancy ones, the ones every middle aged woman seems to keep; the precious china that's to be looked at but never eaten off of.

"Behold! Dinner," he calls, mostly to amuse their hosts, but he hears delighted sounds from Rey as well. His smile widens slightly.

The new couple is also middle aged, the lady thin as a rail with bright blue eyes that were probably very beautiful once, and the man a balding fifty-some year old, tan as leather and with the thickest Italian accent Kylo's ever heard when he speaks.

"This smells _delizioso_!" The man offers, making a kissing motion with his fingers. So very Italian. Kylo takes it as a compliment. Italians are very hard to please.

Everyone sits, each person paired off with their significant other, and the conversation turns pleasant enough as the dishes are passed around. He watches Rey spoon in way more food than he ever thought she could eat. She might be the size of a peanut, but she eats like a horse. He smiles.

He seemed to be smiling an awful lot lately.

Kylo waits to see her reaction. Well, everyone's reactions, but mostly hers. When she finally forks some of the chicken and pushes it into her mouth, her eyes go slightly wide and she starts chewing faster in that way that tells him she's enjoying it. She'd done the same with the ham and butter sandwich. A couple of pleased groans escape everyone, but his ears only focus on the delighted little moan at the back of her throat.

Good.

Kylo finally starts eating.

"I didn't know you could cook—" she starts, and Kylo immediately notices how Penny and Martin look at them. The Italian couple are too busy eating. Rey amends, "—this particular dish! Why didn't you tell me, Sweetheart?"

Kylo takes a long moment to chew, smiling to himself and for their hosts' benefit, while he considers his answer. Finally he goes with the simplest thing he knows, even if it's also the most smartass response.

"You never asked," he murmurs while looking at her. Rey scrunches her nose then leans in and kisses his cheek.

She's turning the acting on. Kylo inhales sharply, still not quite over their exercise in theatrics in the garden.

"Well, it's delicious," she murmurs for his ears only.

Kylo exhales slowly and pastes on a sickeningly sweet smile. If she can act despite her history, then so can he. When he leans in to gently brush his lips against her cheek, Rey hums. Everyone around the table is watching.

"Oh but look at you two!" Penny comments, "I've never seen two people so in love."

Rey tenses under the table, so he plants his hand on her knee and squeezes. A reassurance. She relaxes, then lets out an obviously faked laugh. At least, it's fake to his ears. To everyone else it probably sounds very genuine.

"Sorry, I can't help it," she whispers, "He's just…"

"Oh, I know all about that!" Pipes the Italian lady. "My Franchesco here! It was love at first sight…"

So the conversation turns to the Italians, Franchesco and his wife — Thea, it turns out to be her name — speak about their own love story, leaving Kylo and Rey to _ooh_ and _ahh_ at all the right places while enjoying their meal in silence.

It isn't until every single scrap of vegetable, every morsel of chicken and every grain of rice is gone that Martin gets up and goes to grab the brandy. It's a giant bottle. Kylo gets the impression that they go through these a lot, from the second bottle sitting on the rack.

Glasses are distributed with good natured cheer, and Rey, who'd already had quite a few swigs of wine in the kitchen, looks at the small glasses warily. He sets to intervening.

"Martin I don't think we should—" he starts, only to be cut off by Franchesco.

"Nonsense, _mio figlio_! All good meals must end with a cap!" Franchesco rubs his hands together, giving him a toothy grin.

"No I really—" he begins. Rey's sitting rather still at his side. Perhaps she doesn't drink around others?

"Ah but you've cooked us such a good meal!" Penny provides, and everyone else but Rey choruses their agreement, "and this is _vintage_! A small one won't hurt."

He looks at Rey. It's four to two. Rey gives a resigned shrug after a while and grabs her little shot. Kylo bites his lip. One wouldn't hurt. When Thea passes him his Kylo grabs it with stiff fingers, painfully avoiding her long fingers and clearly fake nails. He looks at the amber liquid, served neat, then at Rey. The tip of her nose has turned pink and her eyes are just a particular level of glassy. She shrugs at him again.

"To a wonderful evening!" Martin announces, Kylo mumbles his assent and glasses clink before everyone downs their brandy.

It goes down entirely too smoothly then it settles warmly in his stomach.

Perfect vintage.

Rey's staring at her now empty glass curiously, as if she'd never tasted something that could go down so smoothly. When he makes to take her glass the table erupts in conversation again, this time over the quality of their alcohol and its age — _As old as some of the hairs on my chest!_ Martin pipes up with a cackle, downing another glass — and goes on for another fifteen minutes. Kylo relaxes. The worst part of the meal is over.

Except that's never true, is it? No, in Kylo's limited experience, it never was.

"You know what we should do? Play a game!" Martin says, having obviously downed just a hair more than necessary in a matter of minutes. "A good meal and a good night cap are wonderful, but an evening amongst friends is never quite done without a game!"

"Card game!" Franchesco booms, and the women seem fairly happy by this.

 _Oh, a card game. That's not so bad._

Except—

Martin leans over his wife and plants a soft kiss on her head. Penny preens, her own cheeks colored pink from the brandy. Rey and Kylo watch them carefully. Drunk people wanting to play games never went well.

"How about we play Truth or Kiss? We have a brand new couple here! It's time we showed them how we olden ones do it." Martin proposes. Kylo chokes a little and Rey tenses to stone.

" _What_?" Kylo asks with a croak.

This isn't happening.

"Oh! This game! We played it last week, no?" Thea says, turning to Kylo with all the air of a woman who holds the secrets of the universe and is about to impart them on her young padawans. "We all share a truth about our lives! And about our marriages! If the answer isn't good enough to everyone else's satisfaction, you kiss. Or you can skip the truth if you're uncomfortable, take a drink, then kiss your partner! It's great for bonding!"

Rey croaks beside him and Kylo has to place his hand on her knee and squeeze again. He'd found himself touching her an awful lot lately, all things considered. Part of him is surprised she's allowed it at all.

Penny, Thea and Franchesco whisper amongst themselves and chuckle, obviously delighting in the two younglings sitting there like they're deers caught in headlights, entirely oblivious to how uncomfortable Kylo and Rey are.

"No, that's alright," Rey says, pasting on a sweet smile. "We're not very into…games…"

"Nonsense, lass!" Martin laughs raucously, "Look at that husband of yours! What do you mean you're not into _games!_ "

Martin's obviously had a few too many, and alcohol loosened the man. Kylo breathes in deeply.

This is not happening.

This is _not_ happening.

"Really, Sir," he begins, trying to use his sternest tone, "We would rather—"

"Oh come on!" Penny says, giving them that infernal pointed look of hers. "You were so sweet earlier! Surely a little game of Truth or Kiss isn't something to get flustered over! You're among friends!"

Kylo changes tactics.

"Isn't it Truth or _Dare_?" He asks. Martin cackles.

"My boy, when you're this old, the only dare you can take on is to kiss your lovely wife like you're off to war and won't see her again. You may be able to go run around naked through the yard in your strapping youth," he explains, and Rey's turning about twenty degrees of tomato red by his side. Kylo's sure his own cheeks are tinging pink, "But we're not doing that! I don't look good bare like the day I was born anymore! So Truth or Kiss it is!"

"Don't be a spoil sport, _mio figlio_!" Franchesco chimes in, obviously excited about the idea of drinking and kissing his wife. Kylo closes his eyes for a second then looks at Rey.

 _Just say the word. Just say it._

He'd be fine sleeping in a bush if she asked him to.

Rey takes in his face, inch by inch, detail by detail, for far too long. As if reading his mind, she shakes her head. She's clearly not willing to sleep in a bush in the middle of the night. He can hear the pitter patter of rain slowly beginning outside.

Kylo leans in to let her whisper into his ear when she leans forward.

"We'll give them hell for this later," she mumbles so low he almost can't hear it even as her breath caresses his ear lobe.

When he turns to the other two couples, everyone's looking at them with interest.

"Alright, alright."

Kylo and Rey come up first, because of _course_ they'd come up first.

"What was your most romantic moment!" Penny asks, meddlesome as always.

Rey looks at Kylo, there's a hint of panic there.

"Skip," she replies instantly, never losing eye contact with him. Kylo frowns.

"Wow they're sure ready for this," Thea comments to her husband.

Penny and Martin are delighted, though. Martin serves them both a shot of brandy with a laugh and encouragement. Kylo keeps watching Rey as she grabs her drink and downs it, determination in her eyes. Kylo downs his shot in a hard swallow. The two other couples are cheering them on as if they were all teenagers playing spin the bottle.

This is insane.

Rey makes the first move. She leans in and quickly plants a soft peck on his lips. It's over before he can register it even happened. It burns.

"There," Rey gives, satisfied.

"Oh, oh no no!" Franchesco's voice roars up above everyone's laughter. "That's not a kiss! That's a…a…what's the word?" he turns to his wife, who's obviously more proficient in English.

Thea shrugs. "Not a kiss."

 _Not a kiss_ , the rest of the table parrots.

This is insane.

"Kiss your wife, son!" Martin hollers, swinging the brandy bottle around.

A deep breath.

Kylo turns towards Rey, who's sitting like a statue next to him. He lets air flow in through his nose, out his lips, and forces himself to allow the room to drop away and disappear. His hands creep up slowly from his side, all the way up her arms, trying to reassure her, and he bites his lip at the trail of goosebumps his touch leaves behind. Rey's eyes have not left his. He should stop now, he chants to himself over the steady drum of intensifying rain.

Kylo focuses on the tip of her quickly reddening nose. He kisses it softly much as he had in the garden. Rey swallows, hands fisted on her lap. Every single eye in the room is focused on them as Kylo allows a soft breath to escape and makes those staring eyes disappear. When her breath reaches him it mingles into intoxicating brandy and herbs. He licks his lips. It's enough to make any man hungry again.

This is crazy.

His one hand sneaks up to cup the side of her cheek, tilting her head gently until his fingers are lost in her hair.

This is madness.

Rey's chest isn't moving. His other hand slides up her shoulder to cup the back of her neck, bringing her closer. She doesn't move, and he can feel the tension under his fingers. He looks at her from under half lowered lids.

 _Say the word._ he begs. Rey's gaze hardens.

Kylo's face lowers and tilts until her soft lips are a hair away from his, soft warm air from her lungs and his mixing between them, and he carefully places a gentle kiss on the corner of her mouth, avoiding the unavoidable.

This is lunacy.

The moment between his lips pressing to hers and his eyes slowly falling shut extends for an eternity.

When they finally meet, all he gets is warmth and stiffness.

It's not a kiss. It's lips mashed together for a long, drawn out moment. The moment kickstarts again when he tastes brandy on her. His lips act of their own volition. He opens, seeking the taste, forgetting for a second that this is all meant to be playacting. Rey's breath hitches so he caresses her cheek with his thumb, trying without words to reassure her it would be okay.

This is beyond lunacy, this is absolutely not what he should be doing.

 _Stop. Stop. Stop._

"Oh, would you look at that," Penny whispers to Martin with a soft sigh, enjoying the view as if it were a 1930's rom-com. The woman's words seem to snap Rey up from her frozen state.

Soft lips part under him and his stomach drops.

They move, mechanically but gently, and Rey's hands move up to caress the back of his hair once more. The grumble that escapes him is unbidden, a reaction he's getting conditioned to when she touches him. She softens under him. He _almost_ feels a soft, damp tongue against his own, mixed in with the intoxicating taste that is the girl in his arms. Maybe it's his imagination. The kiss lasts only a second longer before he breaks it and clears his throat.

This is not how he expected the night to go. When his eyes open Rey's lashes have only just fluttered slightly. Then wide hazel meets golden brown. They stare at each other numbly for a second.

"BRAVO!" Breaks the clapping from around the table. The room comes back in sharp focus, whiplashing him back to reality. Kylo gets a clap on the back from Martin, who pours everyone a new round. "Now that's how you kiss a woman!"

Kylo glues his eyes to his drink.

The moment is broken when Rey sneezes away from him again. Kylo snorts.

Not how his night should have gone _at all._

He downs his shot without being prompted to give a truth or a kiss.

* * *

 **What did you think? PLEASE REVIEW!**

 **Author's note: xD these idiots.**


	13. Chapter 13: Wine & Foil

Rey's eyes hadn't moved off the shot in front of her for at least ten minutes now. Not until, of course, Ren breaks her out of her reverie by carefully reaching under the table and giving her knee a gentle squeeze.

He'd done that repeatedly.

Surprisingly, Rey hadn't minded. Not when he'd tried to reassure her it would be okay, not when he'd tried to ask her about the drink without words, not when he'd tried to ease her worries about the stupid game of Truth or Kiss. Her heart's somewhere jammed up in her throat and she turns to look at him, blinking rapidly.

The night had taken a turn for the worse, and Rey had almost bolted until she'd heard the rain. They were truly stuck, and that meant playing this game and getting through the night. They'd be out in the morning. She'd told herself she could get through this. As she'd examined Ren's face and found nothing but concern there, she'd made up her mind.

 _He's a gentleman. This is all pretend_.

Except, for the last ten minutes Rey's stomach had been doing uncomfortable flops while the burn of his kiss eased off her lips. The ghost of his touch faded incredibly slow.

Rey swallows, concentrating on the man beside her. He pinches his nose.

"It's our turn again," he says, looking thoroughly displeased. His shot had been refilled after he'd downed it, despite not having been dared to do anything. "You look tired."

Rey gives him a weak smile, trying to concentrate hard on his words. Probably giving her an out. He'd offered about twenty outs by now. Before Rey can say anything, though, Penny's already asking their question.

"Alright, children! What's your favorite way of doing it?"

Ren's head whips around.

"Excuse me?" He asks. Rey echoes him.

"You know! The deed! The horizontal danc—"

Rey clears her throat loudly, widening her eyes at Penny for emphasis. "You know, I'm sorry. I'm really tired now. Would you excuse me?"

She pushes her chair back, listening to the scraping noise like nails on a chalkboard, and forces herself to bid her good night in a pleasant tone rather than bolting out of the room like she so desperately wanted to. Penny and Thea laugh about young girls being so shy, and Francesco is busy clearing his throat from having choked on his drink. Martin very carefully inspects his glass of brandy, avoiding looking at Rey.

"I— Uhm, thank you again for your kindness, Mr. And Mrs.—"

"Oh, call me _Penny_! We're good friends here!" Penny cuts her off, cheeks ruddy and hair flying out of her bun. The woman had had plenty to drink. "I hope you two have a _lovely night!"_

Penny chuckles and Martin shakes his head with an indulgent smile. Rey turns to Ren.

"You can stay a little longer if you'd like, Sweetie—"

"No," Ren cuts her off, then clears his throat uncomfortably and shoves his hands into his pockets. His head comes down a little as he curls in on himself in a way that makes Rey smile, and when he looks up at her through thick lashes it's with the most sheepish of looks. "I mean, what kind of husband would I be if I left you all by yourself?"

Rey smiles, genuinely this time, despite her exhaustion and the levels of anxiety this whole dinner had instigated for her.

"Okay. I don't know the way to the room anyway," she replies with a shrug, eyeing the staircase. "I'll uh…"

"Oh! I forgot!" Martin says, pulling Ren by the arm, "One moment, little lass. I have something to discuss with your husband."

Rey stares at their retreating backs and can do nothing but stand awkwardly by Penny and the other two people around the table. She glues on a small smile, her eyes on the door.

"You should drink that," Penny says, pulling her out of her reverie.

"Uhm?" Rey asks absentmindedly.

"Your drink!" Penny replies, pointing to Rey's untouched shot. "It's the good stuff! And perhaps you might need a little liquid courage?"

Rey frowns. _Liquid what?_

She stares at the glass. It would be awfully rude of her not to drink what had been so willingly offered. Plus she'd already had about a half bottle of wine and a shot, what was one more? She picks up the glass and downs it quickly, and everyone around the table cheers.

"Ah, well done!" They all call in a chorus before chuckling to themselves and ignoring her, deciding to focus instead on each other after Rey refuses to engage in small talk. It takes Ren about five minutes to return. When he walks through the door - hunched over to avoid bonking his head - his arms are stiffly held at his side, holding a bottle of red. She takes in his face, stony and flushed all at the same time. What in the…

"Come on," he says, immediately wrapping his hand around her waist protectively as he guides her towards the stairs, away from everyone's prying eyes and ears. Rey tenses but allows it and Ren's fingers immediately drop from her side as they clear the room; she throws a glance to the people behind her. Martin has a satisfied grin on his face as he leans over to kiss his wife's head.

"What was that about?" Rey asks in a murmur once they make it up the stairs. The hall's dark, the only source of light being the golden glow from the stairwell, and she can only just barely notice Ren's head shaking.

"You don't want to know," he whispers, passing her the heavy bottle as he grabs her other hand and guides her towards the room, his free hand pressed against the wall until he feels their door. He drops his hold on her as soon as he finds the door, opening it and moving to flick on the light switch—

He doesn't need to.

The whole room is covered in dozens of small round glass bowls filled halfway with water, lit tealight candles floating in the middle, bathing the room in that ethereal light that only candlelight can achieve. Rey looks into the room from behind Kylo's arm, bunching her fingers into his shirt to push him a little sideways so she can get a better view, and arches an eyebrow. He's standing statue still at her side. Her eyes fall on the bed, positively covered in red and pinkish petals she recognizes from the afternoon. Rey bites her lip.

"You have got to be kidding me," Ren says.

Rey grunts something that sounds like agreement, too busy deciding between being entirely mortified and laughing. The bottle of wine suddenly made so much sense.

"They're not even _trying_ to be subtle at this point," she says, finally coming around him to stand next to him inside the room.

Ren turns to look at her, face torn between amusement and mortification. It's what finally breaks the camel's back as Rey slowly walks towards the door, closes it with a soft click, and then clips over to the bed before falling on it. She laughs face first into the comforter, far too gone to even consider that there's only one bed.

The dam breaks and Rey rolls around until she's on her back, laughing into the room as if it had told her the funniest joke on earth. Actually, it just had. A small sheen of tears teases her lashes as she holds her hand over her mouth and convulses.

It goes on, and on, and on. Her sides hurt. After about five minutes Rey finally sits up and wipes away the tears. Ren is standing exactly where she'd left him. He'd taken the bottle and placed it on the small bedside table, then resumed his place and leaned back against the closet. His shoulders had lost a bit of their edge, but not much.

"Well I'm glad one of us finds it hilarious," he says, shaking his head. Rey's insides threaten to break out in laughter again. She sniffs, looking around for something to clean her nose up with. Rey snorts.

"At this point, it's either laugh or cry," she admits, eyes running over the bedside tables. No tissue box. "What time is it?"

Ren pulls his phone out of his pocket and Rey watches as the little screen lights up his face with a blue glow, so starkly contrasted to the golden warmth of the tealight candles. Another giggle escapes. He looks up from the screen at her and shakes his head. She notices that his other hand's been shoved into his pocket, as if afraid to touch anything just by having his hands by his side.

"Ten," he says, "We were down there for quite a while. One would think they'd be done soon."

Rey hiccups a giggle back then runs her hands down the soft petals on the comforter. She picks up a few and rolls them between her thumb and her index finger. Ren watches her, curious and very, very guarded. Every once in awhile his own hand shifts in his pockets, perhaps toying with a loose thread or pocket lint. He carefully avoids looking at her after that.

"We're waiting," she proclaims, quickly coming up with a plan. Ren finally pries his eyes off the ugly flowered curtains to look at her, eyebrows rising.

"We're what?" He asks.

"We're waiting for them to be done." She nods, then looks at the bottle of wine by the bed. She makes a grab for it. Mixing alcohol had never been a great idea, but hey, this occasion called for it. Ren scrunches his shoulders, eyeing her warily.

Maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe it's the fact that the last four days of her life have been one ridiculous event after another, but she scoots over to the inside of the bed then pats the side next to her.

"We're waiting for them to be done, then they're _so_ paying for this."

Ren stares at the bed. Now that it's just the two of them, he's dropped all pretenses of closeness. He looks at her and narrows his eyes. "I'll sleep down here, thanks."

Rey frowns.

It's kind of sweet of him to offer to sleep on the floor, but seriously. She pats the bed again.

"You're a nice guy. I trust you sitting here," she nods, then tries to pop open the bottle of wine. The cork doesn't budge. Ren watches her carefully, and Rey turns to him, head slightly buzzy from the shots of brandy. "Are you just going to stand there?"

He huffs, then takes the two short steps it takes him to come to the bed. He lowers himself slowly onto the tiny bed, the mattress dipping dangerously at his weight, and watches her struggle with the cork again. When she's made no progress in five minutes he shakes his head again with a muttered comment about a helpless duckling, then twitches his fingers at her.

"Give that here."

Rey hands it over. It takes him two seconds to pop the cork out.

"I loosened it for you," she retorts. He smiles, but hands the bottle back over.

"So, how exactly are we paying them back?" Ren asks curiously, leaning into the headboard. The bed screeches painfully loud at the motion. Rey grins. Ren's eyes widen.

"No," he breathes out, more in surprise than anything. " _That's_ your plan?"

Rey laughs. His lips part in disbelief, then he tilts his head back and joins her.

It positively _booms._ She'd never heard him laugh, and almost drops the open bottle of wine at the sound. It bounces off the walls like a drum, coming from a well deep within his diaphragm as if being dragged out by force, deep and tinged with something dark and becoming as it echoes around the tiny space. His hair's fallen into his eyes and he shakes his head while pushing further back into the bed frame.

Ren reaches into his pocket, and what she had assumed was pocket lint turns out to be a small square packet. She'd know one anywhere. Her face goes red and her body heats up immediately, starting at her cheeks then spreading down to her tiptoes.

Ren turns the little plastic square between his fingers. She can hear the squeak of rubber inside.

"Do they not have _anything_ better to do?" He asks, looking at it. Despite herself, Rey snatches it from his fingers. He arches an eyebrow. "What're you doing?"

"We'll need this later," she says, and only too late does she realize what that must sound like. She bites her tongue.

"I don—"

"Not that way," she corrects immediately.

Ren arches an eyebrow but hums, his fingers laced together on his lap as he stares up at the ceiling.

"I am sorry," he murmurs after a while. He refuses to look at her. Rey stares at the open bottle and takes a swig. Maybe liquid courage wasn't such a bad idea.

"So am I," she says.

"You could have said the word and we would have left, you know," Ren grumbles, turning his head sideways to look at her from under heavy lids. "You shouldn't have to put up with this."

Rey shrugs, eyes fixed on the bottle. "I don't particularly feel like sleeping out in the rain."

As if on cue, her body jerks and she has just enough time to pass Ren the bottle of wine before it sloshes everywhere, turning her head to the side as a loud sneeze flies out. It leaves her ribcage aching.

"You're sleeping on that side," he mumbles. Rey groans, but before she can turn around there's a napkin being pushed under her nose.

That's right. He's the kind of weird guy who keeps napkins in his pocket.

Rey clears her nose and then leans back, nostrils aching and burning.

"You sure you're alright?" He asks, and Rey nods.

"Not used to being around all this greenery," she offers what passes for a reason.

She wouldn't get sick. She _couldn't_ get sick. A stupid cold was not going to keep her from what she'd come here to do.

"I'm pretty sure _greenery_ doesn't cause a snotterfall, Rey," he offers, looking at the wine and giving himself a shrug before taking a gulp. Rey scoffs. He smirks around the lip of the bottle before looking at her and mumbling into it. "What? I'm not the one sneezing my heart out here."

Rey shakes her head.

Somehow between day one of her nightmarish trip to Ireland, and day four of said continued nightmares — several of which had had to do with this man, actually — she'd found herself sitting in a bed and breakfast with a six foot two giant ( _six foot three?_ She muses), drinking from a bottle of wine and joking about snot.

"This is insane," Rey says to the air. Ren nods his assent. "It's just for tonight. Then tomorrow we can be on our way."

Ren nods again.

"Silver lining, at least we don't have to see them until the morning," Ren offers lamely. Rey snorts, but the tickle of the motion almost makes her sneeze again so she breathes in air through her mouth for a moment. He passes her the bottle absentmindedly. She takes a drink.

They spend the next twenty minutes or so talking about nothing in particular, though she finally learns that he's from Los Angeles, and he laughs at her for living in a shoebox in NYC.

"You know you could probably afford a _house_ elsewhere for that price, right?" He asks, seeming to have forgotten that he's trying to avoid touching her as he pries the wine bottle from her hand and drinks. It's already halfway gone.

"Says the man who lives in sunny California. How many limbs do you usually sacrifice for _your_ rent?" She chides playfully, taking the bottle back.

"I— Ah, actually. I just bought my place." He says, staring off towards a flimsy curtain covering up something Rey hasn't investigated yet. "Four days ago, actually."

Rey blinks.

"You _bought_ your place? As in you're the legal owner of the thing forever? In Los Angeles? How old are you? You can't be older than thirty five."

Ren snorts, turning to her with an arched brow, "Thirty two, thank you very much." He scoffs and mutters "Thirty five…"

Rey smirks, running her thumb on the lip of the bottle. She's probably sick and she's been trading germs with this guy for like a half hour.

"If you wake up sick tomorrow, I apologize in advance," she says. Ren smirks.

"I thought you said it was allergies?"

Rey clamps her mouth shut. He gives her a self satisfied look that reeks of _gotcha_. Rey narrows her eyes at him until he looks away, then takes to studying him.

It suddenly made so much sense. The guy must be made of money. It certainly explains why he seems to want to throw money at his problems left and right. Money solved a whole lot of things. She would know.

Rey clears her throat and looks away.

"What time is it now?" She asks. Ren dutifully checks his phone again.

"Almost eleven," he says, stealing the bottle of wine. At this rate it would be gone very quickly. She can feel her cheeks warm from the alcohol and her body feels a little like it's floating, and also like it's been filled up with lead. Falling asleep right now would be the most glorious thing, but she has to deliver a whole can of whoopass labeled ' _payback, bitch'_ to Penny and Co, so sleep could wait.

Ren seems to notice.

The man seems to notice an awful lot.

"You should go sleep," he offers, placing the bottle on the nightstand away from her. "I'll take the floor."

Rey sighs. "Don't be stupid. Just stick to your side and we'll be fine."

She'd never shared a bed with anybody. _Nobody_ but Finn.

Still, the man beside her had paid for their stay here. It would be awful of her to force him on the cold floor. She'd just press herself up against the wall and stay there all night.

"Have you seen the size of this bed?" He asks, and Rey's eyes focus on him. He's right.

Ren's legs are dangerously close to dangling off the end even half sitting as he is, and the bed itself is no bigger than a full-sized mattress. Fitting his whole body would take a miracle. Rey smirks.

"That's what you get for being ridiculously tall," she says.

"No, you just happen to be the size of a bird. Also, did you just call me stupid?" He asks, turning to watch her and leaning forward with squinted eyes. Rey laughs.

Just as he's opening his mouth to say something else, they hear steps coming up the stairs.

"Oh! Well, time to act," she pronounces, glad that the distraction kept him from moving too close. It brought rather uncomfortable images of him leaning in for their kiss earlier. Ren stiffens and turns his head towards the wall as if he could see through it. There are four sets of steps.

Everyone's retiring to their bedrooms.

Ren looks back at her and raises his brows in question. Rey smirks then opens her mouth and—

" _OH!_ " She calls in a half moaned cry, hand flying to the headboard and banging it lightly against the wall.

All footsteps stop and Ren almost chokes.

She leans back in while thumping the headboard against the wall repeatedly to a rather slow, steady rhythm that makes Ren's ears turn darker in the candlelight. She leans closer.

"Quick what's your first name?" She hisses.

"Kylo," Ren replies in a whisper, grabbing the bottle of wine and taking a gulp. Rey nods and bangs the headboard harder.

" _OH MY GOD, KYLO!_ " she cries in a drawn out moan. A little bit of wine dribbles out the corners of Kylo's mouth and he mouths a silent curse as he tries to wipe it away, stuck between a laugh and a grimace. Rey punches him in the arm and motions for him to make a sound.

Ren shakes his head hard, crossing his arms in front of him, so Rey kneels on the bed and moves closer, all the while letting out semi-loud drawn out hissy moans and grunts that she knows can be heard through the paper thin walls.

She looms over Ren's seated form, glaring at him.

"Do it," she hisses. Ren's lips twitch, and he rolls his eyes. She repeats herself in a tiny murmur, "C'mon."

She bangs the headboard harder just as Kylo rolls his eyes and lets out a very loud, very guttural grunt.

Her body almost jerks at the sound. Now she knows why he'd choked. It was weird hearing those sorts of sounds from someone else. Still, she bangs the headboard harder.

"Oh baby, yes, please d-don't—" she calls to the wall. The steps outside resume very, very quietly. She hears the two couples outside whispering to themselves and she grins just as Kylo lets out a rather loud hiss.

 _Wow…_ comes from outside their door.

Rey laughs into the crook of her elbow as she hears two doors slam closed, probably trying to inform them that there were other people upstairs. She only bangs the headboard harder. Kylo's body still pressed against it bounces slightly back and forth, only adding his weight to the push against the paper-thin room. She pinches her eyes closed, trying to draw in air.

" _OH!_ " She calls again, grabbing the bottle from Ren and then taking a swig. Kylo takes over the headboard banging, leaving her to remove her hands and wipe at her runny nose.

"You like that?" He adds, pressing his forehead into the wall so that his voice projects out farther, dropping his tone to something far too sexy, "tell me you like that."

Rey chokes this time.

"Oh that's unfair," she whispers to him. Kylo shrugs, giving the headboard one particularly hard shove. Rey moves on the bed, bouncing slightly on her knees to make it squeak.

"Hey, this was your idea," he replies for her ears only.

" _Y-YES!_ " she fakes, shaking the bed. It could probably collapse under their added weight. Kylo smirks and bangs the headboard.

"Oh yes, baby," he growls louder than necessary, then smacks his hand hard on his own forearm. To her ears, it sounds like a hand slapping a backside. Her ass falls back on the bed into a sitting position and Rey cackles silently. It hurts her sides. "Yes, yes. Fuck, Rey," he moans.

Rey has to blink hard at hearing her name, but she started this, so she goes back up on her knees and moves forward. The bed squeaks loudly.

"Oh, O-oh, _OH!_ Kylo, I'm going to—" she moans, gasping between each word. Kylo slaps his arm again and grunts loudly.

"Cum for me, baby, do it."

He arches an eyebrow at her to take over as he grabs the wine bottle and drinks from it.

They hear a door open and close quickly. Another warning to be quiet. They ignore it.

"Oh, fuck, yes! _Yes!_ " Rey whines and Kylo joins in the chanting.

"Cum for me. You like it when I do that?" Another slap to the arm. She can see the reddening fingerprints. "Tell me how much you like it. Tell me how much you like it when I _fuck_ you!"

If she wasn't trying so hard to keep a straight face, Rey would have just about died. He emphasizes the word and nearly shouts it in a growl, and Rey shakes her head frantically.

"Oh, oh!" She calls, and he increases the pace of the headboard slamming. Rey in turn shakes the bed with her knees, faster, faster, and to anyone listening, damn they must be having some amazing sex. "F-fuck! I love it. Please, please…" she begs. Kylo almost skips on a hard shove and looks at her. Rey shrugs.

"Hey, you upped the stakes," she whispers at his astounded face. Kylo grunts loud to the wall and slams the headboard with particularly hard force. That might peel off some of the paint. He lets out another breathy grunt, and then—

"FUCK!" He shouts.

It's raw and drawn out like a growl from inside of him and Rey almost stutters at the noise, remembering just long enough to also let out some rude climaxing sounds. She slows the rocking of the bed down.

From the other side of the hall she can hear a not so subtly quiet 'talk about _stamina'_. Rey collapses on the bed laughing. Tired laughing.

People laughed after they orgasmed hard enough, right? Kylo shakes his head and sits back down, leaning against the headboard.

"You _do_ have little horns on you," he whispers so quietly she almost misses it. Rey smirks.

"We're not done yet," she tells him, also a little louder than necessary. Ren's — _Kylo's —_ eyebrows rise.

"What, you mean you want a second round?" He calls towards the wall in what passes for affectionate praise.

And so they spend the rest of the night drinking their bottle of wine and chuckling between fake sessions.

By the time they end their hilarious charade, it's closer to three in the morning.

"Do you think that's enough punishment?" She asks, leaning in to whisper it in his ear. She feels him shiver as his hair shakes around her mouth.

"I think you're trying to kill all of us." He murmurs back. "You'll pay for not getting sleep later."

Rey shrugs. "Worth it."

Kylo shakes his head, taking the empty bottle from her fingers and finally putting it on the night table. Then Rey remembers.

"Oh!" She whispers, digging around between the flower petals until she finds a little packet with a condom in it. Kylo stares at it and purses his lips. "A present."

She gets up, walking towards her bag, which had been curiously moved to the top of the closet. She hops a little to grab it, then opens it, trying hard not to focus on the fact that it had been opened by someone other than herself, before she finds what she's looking for. Her conditioner.

She cracks the foil packet open with her teeth and pulls out the rubbery condom, then squirts some conditioner into it and rubs it around from the outside. Kylo's biting down on his lip extra hard to keep from laughing. She shoots him a conspiratorial smirk then promptly drops it into the mesh waste basket, where it can be clearly seen.

"There," she nods to herself then returns to the bed, standing by Ren's legs.

"We should shake the petals off the bed, Sweetie," she says in her normal voice, sure that Penny would hear it. Stupid Penny and her stupid waste of plant life.

Ren grunts and swings his legs off, casually dropping a "So you just rode me to exhaustion and now you want me to pick up _petals_?"

Rey throws her head back in silent laughter and for it she's rewarded with a smile from Ren. They both shake their heads as they get to shoving all the petals on the floor. Penny could deal with the mess. It had been her idea after all.

They hear hushed murmurs from the other rooms.

Finally, once all petals have been unceremoniously brushed off the sheets, Ren and Rey stand staring at each other. He lowers his voice to a tiny whisper.

"I really can take the floor," he murmurs. "The bed's too small anyway."

Rey shakes her head.

Not only had he paid for their stay, she'd kept him up until three in the morning with these shenanigans. "No, it's fine. I promise you, I'm fine. What happened was…"

Rey takes in a deep breath. "Look, you were kind. And… I know you won't touch me, okay? So, just take the damn half of the bed and sleep, and we'll be out of here in the morning."

Ren looks at his boots and grunts, then gets to kicking them off, one first then the other by the heel. Rey sits on the creaky bed and kicks off the flip flops Penny had provided her since her shoes had gotten wet. Then they look at each other awkwardly. The natural order of things would be clothes.

Ren tilts his head towards the plastic curtain. "That's the shower. You can undress there."

Rey looks at it. It's just barely frosted and she can make out the shape of a room behind it. It hardly looked functional. "I'll just sleep in my clothes."

Ren nods. "Well, then _I_ am taking a shower."

Rey crawls into bed and under the comforter before he can say anything else, avoiding his eyes as he digs in his bag and looks for his usual sleeping clothes. He walks off with them and Rey promptly plants her eyes out the small window by the bed, staring out into moonlit yard.

In the morning she would cause more of a fuss, perhaps ask a sleep deprived Penny if they could try playing Truth or Kiss again. Rey smirks. The woman would never agree to it after the results she'd gotten for her efforts.

The light in the shower stall goes on and she hears a muttered curse about the shower head's height and about hot water. She sighs as she feels her own body become unbearably warm under the blankets. Rey undoes her jeans, wiggling out of them and then draping them at the foot of the bed. She'd be fine. Ren is a gentleman.

She stares out the window a little longer, trying to bring in air through tired lungs from her earlier shouting, and closes her eyes. Three in the morning.

She'd pay for that.

* * *

 **A/N:** I know I've been gone for eons! but I finally figured out how to update this story and keep my formatting, so it should be a hell of a lot easier now to keep stories updated 3

This story will now update Fridays! comments water my soul.


	14. Chapter 14: Hot & Cold

Kylo walks into the bathroom and switches the light on. It's the size of a shoebox. The whole shoebox is the shower. There's a small sink on the opposite wall under a double hung window, with a mirror sitting on the window sill, and two pegs with white fluffy towels on the wall where he hangs his clothes.

He leans over the sink and looks at himself in the mirror. This is the longest he's gone without shaving and there's the beginnings of a goatee and a mustache there. It takes him ten seconds to decide whether to keep it. When he walks back into the room his eyes immediately travel to the bed. Rey's asleep already. Kylo shakes his head, rummaging in his bag for toiletries before heading back into the shoebox, running the tap. His mind vaguely registers the cold.

Three in the morning. The absurdity of his life washes over him as he slathers his cheeks then takes a razor to them.

 _What are you doing?_ He asks himself, careful not to cut his cheeks, the new chant that had replaced his silver linings mantra in a matter of days. The razor clanks dully against the sink as he busies himself with turning his cheeks smooth.

He had to admit to himself that the whole fake-sex fiasco had been hilarious, though a big part of that had been the half bottle of wine he'd consumed. Still, it bothered him. And it bothered him that _it bothered him._

He'd played along for her sake, giving in to Rey's demand of exacting revenge on the meddlesome Penny, but hearing his name on her lips had not been what he'd expected.

He stills his hand before he can cut himself. The last time he'd heard his name moaned like that had been in a different life, now so far removed from the last four days of his existence. He shoves that thought out of his mind and finishes shaving.

Showering forces him to perform acrobatics as he tries to angle himself under the too-low shower head so he can wash his hair. Number one item on his to-do list once he got to Dingle would be to replace all showers somehow to ensure he could actually _shower_ under them. Rey would have no problem, though.

That thought stops him in his track.

He takes in a deep breath.

 _What are you doing?_

He cringes, running through the list of things he'd done, and he thinks of the condom. At having shown it to her.

What's a man supposed to do when someone else gives you a condom, a bottle of wine, and a pat on the back with a wink about making _your lady_ _happy_? Kylo grunts to himself, then clicks his teeth to silence the sound, remembering the sleeping girl. The water steams around him and he sighs. He'd deposit her in Dublin in the morning and this whole thing would be over, then—

Then…

Then he'd go on his way, stashing the memories away for some day when he could tell this ridiculous story to someone and have a good laugh over it. When he finishes and dresses himself, he walks back out and grabs his phone. Almost four in the morning. He scrolls through the growing list of missed messages and calls, ignoring all of them. The one blessing about having no signal had been not receiving a single call. The second they'd landed in Martin and Penny's house the messages had started to flood in. He sets an alarm for himself then puts the phone away next to the empty bottle on the small night table.

Right.

Now to deal with more pressing matters. He looks at the tiny bed. Rey's pressed up to the wall under the blankets, already having wrapped herself up in them. He looks around for another comforter without luck.

 _Of course not._

Fine.

Kylo eases himself into the tiny bed, trying his hardest not to make it creak or jostle the sleeping woman. When his head hits the pillow, he lets out a breathy grunt. There's not enough space. He lies on his back, knees bent at a forty five degree angle, and laces his hands on his stomach, tucking in his elbows and pushing his feet under the comforter just enough to keep them warm. Part of him already regrets leaving his wide king bed and spacious bedroom in LA to collect dust.

Sleep comes slowly, and as the hours pass he shifts, the rigid bend to his knees easing as he unconsciously looks for the nearest source of warmth; the room chills by degrees until he's shivering. His half asleep mind berates him for finally giving in and lifting Rey's comforter. He scoots in, careful not to touch her, finally having lost the battle between sharing the sheets or freezing his ass off. Sharing the sheets it would be. It's ridiculously warm compared to the rest of the room and the heat finally lulls him into unconsciousness.

Not a bad way to fall asleep.

When dreams come, they're dreams of mossy fields and golden green, sunlit afternoons. They're pleasant dreams. He hadn't had those for a long time. His mind's eye places him somewhere on a field full of tiny pinkish flowers overseeing the sea. He could stay there forever, in the warmth of the sun, staring out into the open skies and deep blue waters.

Kylo's chest rumbles pleasantly as he nuzzles his face into something impossibly warm. Warm as the sunshine inside his dreams. He curls, pulls it to him, that warmth.

He could stay there forever.

Or, really, just for a little while.

Though it's honestly getting a little warm… maybe not a long while.

 _Wait, why is it so warm?_

His brain slips out of his groggy sleep. His face is buried in something… silky. A flash of rain and floral shampoo hits his senses and his eyes snap open.

Hair. A particular brand of hair, smelling of a particular brand of shampoo. Awareness floods to his limbs at flash speed. His arm is tangled between the sheets and a soft curve, trapped under the hook of an arm that isn't his; his knees are bent into the back of another set of knees, a chest to his chest, and an impossibly soft lower…

His body reacts and Kylo has to keep himself from jerking away and bolting out of the bed. Rey's spooned into his much larger body, sleeping away contentedly as she draws in air in a calm, steady pattern.

 _Fuck_.

He can feel himself edging towards that awkward hardening every man experiences at least once, and Rey's body heat and closeness isn't helping. He pushes his hips back away from her to get some much needed space, immediately noticing the loss of heat.

Kylo frowns.

Heat. It's far too hot. Kylo untangles his forearm slowly from her hold on it, then very, very carefully brings his hand up to her forehead. She's burning.

 _Fuck_.

This time it has nothing to do with bodily reactions.

When he finally manages to pry himself away from her and get out from under the sheets, Kylo slowly turns her by the shoulder until she's sleeping on her back. Her cheeks are flushed despite the pallor to the rest of her face, and her expression is locked in a frown, tiny beads of sweat starting at the baby hairs at her temple. A raging fever.

He sighs.

"Rey?" He asks, shaking her shoulder gently. "Rey, wake up."

Rey groans and tries to roll away from him, curling up into fetal position. He has to slowly turn her again until she's on her back so he can look at her face.

"Rey, you're burning up. Wake up."

Her eyes flutter slowly as if her mind is being dragged away painfully from where her consciousness sleeps. He holds his breath for a moment before, running large fingers through her hair, pushing it away from her forehead and her temples, pushing it behind her ears. Her ears are heated to about ten billion degrees. He purses his lips.

"Rey, sweetheart, you need to wake up." He whispers, eyes dancing over her features, the endearment slipping out of his mouth mindlessly. When she finally opens her eyes they're glassy, red and unfocused.

"Finn?" Rey croaks. Her voice is almost gone, reduced to the high-pitched whistle of somebody whose vocal chords have stopped working. Her words make his heart squeeze. Kylo stills.

"No," he murmurs. "Kylo. Are you alright? Do you need anything?"

Rey gives him a smile. A wide, toothy smile that could blind. It's the most beautiful and sincere smile he's seen on her, even if it's weak from sickness. She untangles her arms from under the sheets and Kylo tenses as she drapes them over his shoulders, burying her fingers into his hair and pulling him to her. He doesn't know what this Finn character looks like, but by the way she nuzzles her searing hot face into the crook of his neck, she must certainly love him immensely.

Kylo breathes in deeply, heat tangled with floral shampoo, then slowly pries open her hold on his shoulders before leaning back.

"Rey," he repeats, "I'm not Finn."

"Oh," she murmurs, but her eyes have already closed. She's not paying attention. He shakes his head then walks to the closet. There are no towels there. He grabs his bag, shuffling clothes around for anything he can use. Kylo grabs one of his clean white t-shirts and walks over to the sink, running the water until it's ice cold before soaking the shirt and wringing it. When he returns he finds the hottest place on her, her neck, and drapes the damp, cool fabric over it. Rey lets out a soft, pleased sigh.

"I'll be back," he murmurs to the room since Rey's no longer listening.

Of course she'd have a fever.

He thinks back to the last forty eight hours of nothing but Rey recklessly running around in the rain, Rey getting dunked in a hot bath, Rey barely getting any proper sleep for two days, running on nothing but adrenaline, then downing a rather large amount of alcohol after repeated stress. Her immune system had been ground to nothing.

When he makes his way down to the stairs, he finds his hosts already at the table, enjoying early tea for breakfast.

"Oh good morning!" Penny greets. She doesn't sound as peppy as she'd like to, though, and he notices the puffy bags under her eyes. Martin is bent over his tea with a newspaper, and only gives him a nod before pointedly focusing on the news. He, too, looks exhausted. If Rey hadn't been upstairs burning up with a fever, he would have smiled.

"Good morning," Kylo says, "I hope you two slept well."

Penny gives him a side glance before planting a smile on her face. "Oh, you know… Wonderful… once we were able to fall asleep, of course. Such a fun night amongst friends!"

Kylo smiles, trying to hide his self satisfaction. He'd have to tell Rey. Once he could get her conscious, that is. That reminds him what he'd come here to do.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your breakfast but Re— My wife is upstairs with a fever. It's been a long trip and she got a little wet. Do you by any chance have medicine I could give her?"

That perks Penny up.

"A fever! Oh dear, oh dear." Penny says, pushing her chair back. "That won't do." She grabs Kylo's arm and he has to force himself not to tense under her touch as he's dragged away towards the kitchen. "That poor, poor thing! I have some remedies that might help, don't worry!"

So Penny sets about to chattering his ear off while he sits on a small chair, worrying as the minutes pass that he's not upstairs checking on the feverish girl. Penny brews up some concoction with lemon in the tea, some long-revered family recipe to cure all ailments. When he asks about over the counter medication, Penny scoffs at him, shoving a tray into his hands.

"That nonsense?! No, no. Here, give her this. She'll feel better in no time."

Kylo glares at the tea, bodily refraining from pinching his nose. Instead he gives Penny a pleasant smile. "Do you at least have tylenol?"

Penny examines him for a moment before turning her nose up at him with a sigh.

"You young people and your dependency on drugs," she replies, but walks off to a cabinet and pulls out a tiny bottle of tylenol. She dispenses two into the tray then looks at him, startled. "Oh! Dear, I almost forgot. Martin and I will be leaving soon to go to Dublin!"

Kylo tenses, "I'm sorry?"

Penny sighs, a long, drawn out thing. "Well, you see… The other couple has already checked out this morning, and we remembered you'd only booked for the night, so we'd made plans to go visit family. But your poor lovely wife is now sick, that won't do! Still…" Penny worries at her lip, mumbling to herself, one hand wrapped around her middle. "One moment, dear."

She walks off, leaving Kylo standing stupidly holding a small tray with miracle tea, so he makes to follow. He finds Penny and Martin bent into each other, talking in hushed tones.

"Is there a problem?" He asks, already running through a mental list of possible ways to get Rey out of here and somewhere else in her state.

"Oh, no no," Penny says. She gives him a once over. "Well, you have certainly been a gentleman and trustworthy enough!"

"What?"

"My sister is expecting us, so… would you mind being left here by yourselves for a handful of days?"

He lets out a sigh of relief.

"Of course," he replies. "Please, let me know how much we'd owe you. I can make the payment ahead of time."

Kylo forks over the card, tray balanced carefully, before Penny can blink. He tells Martin to charge it as soon as he's told the cost then excuses himself and bolts up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. Just as he's turning the corner upstairs he hears Penny.

 _"Oh poor dear. But look how worried he is. It's almost like in Pride and Prejudice! So romantic."_

Kylo shakes his head. Romantic indeed.

Rey's shifted again, face towards the wall, balled into a fetal position under the sheets. He sighs, placing the tea on the bedside table. The small surface is starting to get crowded with an empty bottle and his phone. He needs her to sit up.

So Kylo does the only thing he can, which is to slip into bed and call out her name. It works as he thought it would.

Rey turns around painfully slow, calls him Finn again, and tries to open her eyes. He shakes his head.

"Yes, it's Finn," he replies, sighing to himself as he wrestles his one arm under her shoulders and pulls her up into a sitting position. Rey groans again and he winces. "Come on, Rey, you have to sit up."

Rey's head lolls, hitting his shoulder, and she slumps into him. He props her up carefully and looks at the tea. It's still hot.

"Shhh," he soothes, grabbing the mug and trying his best not to jostle Rey or dump hot tea into his lap. He brings it up to his lips and takes a sip to make sure it's not scalding. It's surprisingly sweet and pleasant. Kylo blows into it to cool it down, one hand cradling the side of Rey's head on his shoulder to keep her up.

"Rey?" He asks, turning to her. "Sweetheart, I need you to open your eyes now."

He doesn't even think about the endearment. It's a leftover reaction from watching his father during those few instances when he would dote on his mother. It falls from his lips and is forgotten just as quickly as he takes Rey in.

Rey's lashes flutter. He blows into the tea again.

"Rey?"

"Mmmmm?" Her sleepy, whistley vocal chords let out.

"Open your eyes," he orders. Her fever's still raging and she's dozing in and out. She finally pries them open just long enough for him to place the cup under her nose. "Good girl. Now drink some of this."

Just as he guides Rey gently towards the cup Kylo's mind veers off again.

He's turning into a nanny.

That's the only way he could describe this situation: He's a nanny who's now also playing nurse.

Rey takes a sip of her miracle tea and whimpers as it hits the back of her throat, and so he moves his hand from her head to rub gently on her back.

"There, good girl," he praises. Rey leans back and slumps against his shoulder again, so he takes the moment to set the tea down and grab the tylenol.

"Now open up for me. You need to take this tylenol," he murmurs. He places the pills against her mouth, the heat of her lips searing into his fingertips. "Open up."

Rey obliges, lips parting gently. Somewhere in her fever-addled mind, his commands are getting through. He pops them in and then brings the tea back up. "Now drink."

She almost gags on the pills as they go down, and after a weak coughing fit that he eases with a hand to her back, Rey lets out a soft little pained moan.

"You did good," he whispers, knowing she probably won't remember. "Now get some sleep."

Kylo leans over to try and set her back down when Rey's hands move up. She plants it on his face, fingers splayed, searching for something familiar, tentative fingertips pushing into his cheeks.

"So soft," she mutters. Kylo's breath warms his cheeks as it bounces against her palm, and Kylo forces his face to remain still. Then her hand slumps and she falls right back to sleep. Kylo shakes his head, lowering her gently onto her pillow.

Sick people.

He takes the almost empty tea cup and the tray downstairs, only to find that Penny and Martin have already gone. There's a slip of paper on the table pinned down with his credit card.

 _Thank you so much for looking over our house!_

 _I hope your wife feels well soon. Make yourselves at home. We'll be back in three days._

 _Meds are in the kitchen pantry, and please do feed the chickens and rabbits!_

There's a small list of things he needs to do concerning the animals, which he shrugs his shoulders at — it's no big deal — and a breakdown of what had been charged to his card. He pockets the card and pins the letter to the small refrigerator in the kitchen before opening it.

The thing is fully stocked, which is a pleasant surprise. Kylo grabs some of the chicken from the previous night, thankful that the bones were kept, and digs for ingredients.

He walks to the garden and grabs celery and carrots, cleaning them and chopping them while the chicken bones are reduced to a broth.

The leftover chicken is shredded and tossed into it, then the chopped vegetables.

Noodles follow, and some time later he's got chicken noodle soup. Kylo pops two pieces of bread into the toaster as the soup is ladled into a flowery china bowl, then takes Rey's meal up the stairs. When he walks in again she's, once more, curled up into a ball. He frowns.

That seemed like a really awkward way of sleeping all the time.

He sets the tray carefully on the bed before moving the empty bottle of wine to the trash can and pocketing his phone, freeing up the space for her food, and repeats the same process as before. A little bit of gentle guidance, of playing Finn, and Rey is once more cradled into his side as he coaxes her to open up and eat.

By the time she's finally eaten she's almost awake. She looks at him with tired, unseeing eyes.

"What happened?" She asks, confused. Kylo snorts.

"You should have gone to sleep earlier. Eat," he murmurs, offering her another spoonful of soup, Rey eats it without complaint. She's surprisingly agreeable to his bossing her around when she's sick. "You have a fever."

He sets the spoon down in what's left of the soup and touches her forehead, her cheek, the side of her neck. The temperature's only gone down slightly. "And now, you need to sleep."

Kylo ends up tucking her in, then watches her as she falls asleep again.

Three days.

He could make it through three days.

He pulls out his phone and hops on the internet, looking for the nearest doctor in case he needs to call one. The nearest town hospital is twenty miles away. What did people do if they got sick and couldn't go anywhere around here? Kylo decides then and there that he'd pay whatever exorbitant amount of money necessary in order to make the doctors come to him instead. He wasn't about to end up with a dead girl on his hands.

Now that Rey's been fed and medicated, he steps outside and walks around in the quiet. It's sunny, for once. The animals had been fed already, Penny had mentioned, which meant he had a whole lot of time on his hands and nothing to do with it but tend to a sick girl. He walks back in, finding a bookshelf and picking a book without reading the title, before making it back to Rey and scooting himself into bed.

The next few hours are spent barely reading the book on his lap and regularly checking on Rey. The miracle tea must have helped, because her breathing's slowed and her temperature's gone down slightly. Kylo stares at the empty room. He spaces out, only to be disrupted by Rey. She's turned around and found her way to him, pushing her face into the side of his thigh, an arm coming out of the blankets to drape across his lap as she cuddles into him like one would into a pillow.

He sighs.

"Rey?"

Rey lets out a weak, sleepy groan.

"Do you need something?" Kylo asks, not quite expecting an answer. She only rubs her nose into his jeans and squeezes his lap closer. Kylo's lips tighten as he wills his body to _not_ respond. He looks down at her, then pulls out his phone from his pocket. It's barely two in the afternoon. He'd need to wake her up soon to get her to eat and drink. His ears pick up on her huffy, stuffed up breathing as she tries to get air through her nose and fails, pulling it in through her mouth instead.

He shakes his head.

"Rey?" He asks again, but Rey doesn't move. He brings his hand to her hair, giving her temple a gentle stroke to try and wake her. Nothing happens. Or, at least, nothing but Rey letting out a small, happy sigh, her face relaxing. Kylo stares at her, removing his hand and earning a protested whine from the fevered girl.

So, of course, instead of getting up to go cook, Kylo opens up his book with his free hand then returns the other to Rey's head, mindlessly stroking her hair while she breathes hot, sticky air into his thigh. He fails to retain anything on Irish history for the next few hours.

That night Kylo goes room by room and collects all the comforters, spreading them on the floor and making himself a makeshift bed out of heavy, fluffy blankets and a handful of pillows. He lies flat on his back and listens to Rey struggling to breathe on the bed, sighing. He'd tended to her all day, left to his own devices now that there were no Penny and Martin to terrorize. He laces his fingers on his chest, worrying at his lower lip, listening to Rey. It goes on for a while, until she once again makes a sound.

"Peanut," floats to his ears. Kylo frowns.

"What?"

"Peanut..." Rey repeats.

Kylo shakes his head, breathing in deeply and closing his eyes. He drapes an arm over his face to keep all light out. He has to admit playing nanny is exhausting, and he hadn't had a true break. He's not about to get one now.

"Peanut? Finn…? I'm…cold…" she murmurs between breathy sighs. Kylo sits up and reaches over, feeling her forehead. She's slick with sweat and both cold and hot all at the same time. Her fever must be breaking.

Kylo gets up and with a grunt collects all of the comforters he'd gathered, draping them over Rey. She relaxes minimally.

"Thanks, Finn," she murmurs, eyes shut tight. He shakes his head for what feels like the billionth time.

"You're welcome, Rey."

"Peanut," she repeats, then takes in a deep shuddery breath. "I'm your peanut."

Oh.

Suddenly it all made sense. His eyes widen slightly, his mind traveling to a time he'd compared her to a peanut. She'd broken out into a genuine laugh then. His ears burn. So that's why.

He looks at the floor, at the brand new lack of blankets, then back at the bed. With yet another grunt he pushes his boots off and scrambles in, making sure to give her most of the blankets so he wouldn't burn to death. Rey moves towards body heat like a moth to a flame. She immediately drapes herself over him, legs and arms taking over his torso and his thighs, and Kylo stiffens.

This is not happening.

Kylo tries to untangle himself but she only holds on tighter, and his brain screams in alarm when her face buries back into his neck.

This. Is. Not. Happening.

"Rey," he grunts, hands on her slender arm as he tries to pry it away from his chest. She clings tight onto his t-shirt.

"I'm your peanut…" she murmurs, nuzzling him, and he swallows hard, then nearly suffocates on the swallow when she brushes her lips into his jawline. "And you're my peanut."

 _No. No, no, no, no._

"Rey, I'm not your peanut," he almost stutters, shifting his body weight to try and move away. She follows. He looks over the side. One more shift and he'll fall off. Kylo's hands dig under the blankets to try and move her thigh and—

It's bare.

He curses.

She'd removed her jeans and he hadn't even noticed. Soft, smooth skin burns into his palms with a coursing fever.

 _NO. NO. NO._

He groans to himself in irritation — and frustration, even if he won't admit it to himself — and wraps his palm into the crook of her bent knee which is sitting uncomfortably close to his crotch, trying to lift it up and away from him; his nostrils flare at the softness, at the burning temperature, and he screws his eyes shut.

This cannot be happening. Rey only shuffles closer, her knee grazing his crotch. He must be paying for something. Her hand has started to move, and she lets out a sad, desperate whine that's probably very fever induced but also something else, something darker. He needs to get out of bed. Her one hand moves from his chest to his face then further until tangles into his hair at his ear, fingers tightening close to his scalp. He can't move without it tugging, so he stares at the ceiling as Rey plants an open mouthed kiss to his jaw.

 _Fuck._

 _"Rey,_ " he pleads. "Stop. You're feverish. I'm not Finn. Do you hear me? I'm not your boyfriend."

"Of course you are," Rey croons into his ear, nuzzling his earlobe, and his traitorous body reacts in the form of an electrifying shiver running down his spine and a quickly hardening erection. He grunts, but since he can't dislodge her, his hands only keep her thighs from moving up towards it. Her lips move towards his neck and he nearly falls out of the bed in his haste to remove himself. Her limbs fall lifelessly back onto the bed, where he'd been. When he takes in her face, Rey's eyes are closed. She hadn't even opened them. She'd been acting this out in her sleep the whole time.

Kylo paces the three steps it takes him to reach the opposite side of the room while silently cursing a very colorful string of words, running his hands through his hair, the ghost of her fingers still searing into his scalp.

Nope. Nope. He would _not_ go into that bed again. He looks down at his jeans and curses with even more enthusiasm at the slight tenting of his jeans. With a muttered ' _fuck_ ' he grabs his towel and enters the shower. Screw sleeping. A cold shower is in order.

* * *

AN: This story updates Fridays!


	15. Chapter 15: Phone

Rey wakes up with a parched throat, aching bones, and a pounding headache that immediately makes her want to pluck her eyes out. When she finally manages to pry them open, the room's bathed in early morning light, the air cold against her cheeks, and the weight of blankets crushing her into the bed.

Wait.

She tries to shift. Too many blankets. Rey frowns and tries to push at them, but her limbs are weak and she only manages a half-hearted shove. She turns her head to look at the man sleeping next to her––

He's not there.

"Ren?" Rey asks immediately, her voice coming out in a croaky squeak. Rey slowly pushes herself under the blankets until she's on his side. It's cold. She calls out to him again and hears a grunt coming from the floor. Rey looks over and her eyes widen to saucers, only for them to hurt from the added sunlight. She squints instead and suppresses a groan, her voice coming out in an unnatural rasp.

"What on earth are you doing?" she asks, trying to prop herself on an elbow. That doesn't quite work either.

Ren's on the floor with a flimsy blanket, a rather large selection of pillows, dressed in a hoody, sweatpants, and socks, and covering his eyes with an obnoxiously large bicep. He grunts again.

"Sleeping," he mumbles, only to try and roll away. Rey frowns.

"Why are you on the floor?" she asks, confused.

She'd asked him to sleep in the bed the previous night, after their payback to Penny. Rey rubs her fingers against her eye, trying to ease up the pain, and pinches her nose. Why is the room so fuzzy around the edges? She must have had too much to drink. "I thought I said you could share the bed last night."

Kylo turns back around, removing his arm from his eyes and giving her a deeply confused look, brows furrowed and golden gaze pinned on hers. His head tilts sideways, messy hair falling around his large ears while he studies her, then he props himself up on his elbows. It brings him a little close, so Rey leans back a bit and rests her head on his side's pillow.

"What do you mean, last night?" Kylo asks, his tone that of a man who hasn't seen a whole lot of rest. Perhaps she shouldn't have kept him up until three in the morning. He sounds a little rough around the edges, perhaps the beginning of a cold? Guilt twists in her stomach. Still, she focuses on his words, even if it takes a little effort.

"You know, after the…" she points to the trash can, to where she knows there's a condom, except the trash can's now empty. Rey frowns. She could have sworn she'd put that condom in there. Granted, she'd been a little tipsy and all, but her memory's not _that_ bad, right?

Except it really is.

Kylo reaches up and touches her forehead, and Rey nearly bonks her head on the headboard rearing away from it. His frown intensifies. He kneels up and pulls her face to him by placing a hand behind her neck, tugging her closer.

"Stop," he says, then once again cups her forehead. Rey blinks.

"What're you doing?" she asks, lips pursed tight and swallowing hard. It feels like she'd rubbed her esophagus down with sandpaper. Kylo ignores her demand, inspecting her face, her eyes, her lips, then back up. His frown only seems to intensify, if that could even be possible.

"Do you not— Oh, Lord, you don't," he finally groans out, flopping himself back on his makeshift bed on the floor and throwing his arm back over his eyes, head falling heavy on his pillow. "Great. Beautiful."

Rey frowns.

"I don't what?" she asks, pursing her lips and glaring at him. The pounding behind her eyes intensifies. This was _not_ how she wanted to wake up. She takes him in, glossy hair usually so well tamed flying wild around his head on the pillow like an onyx halo.

Kylo lets out a breathy grunt and moves his arm just enough that he can peek at her from over the crook of his elbow, arching an eyebrow.

"Well, I guess it could be worse," he mutters to himself, then sits up and, after digging around on the bedside table, pulls up his phone and shows her the time and the date. Rey narrows her eyes at it, trying to stop the fuzzy edges around her vision. It only lasts long enough for her eyes to widen into saucers at the date.

"Wait," she mutters, yanking his phone out of his hand and bringing it closer to her face even as panic starts bubbling up in her gut. "No."

Kylo simply watches her, arms on knees where he sits on the floor, cautiously angling himself so that were she to stand, she won't stomp all over him.

"No," another breathy word escapes her as she looks at him, and Kylo absentmindedly bites on the inside of his cheek.

"You were sick," he says, twisting the edge of one of the blankets hanging over the side between his fingers. The man always seems to be in need of something to do with his hands. "Delirious, actually."

"NO!" She cries, barely managing to get out of bed. And she tries. She tries to stand up and run to go get her phone, so she can call Finn, who must surely be worried sick out of his mind, when her legs tangle in the same mountain of blankets and she careens straight into Kylo. The giant of a man only just manages to catch her by the waist, yet when falling out of a bed in a tangle of sheets, there's no way to do it gracefully.

Her arms swing, one elbow smacking right into his jaw, the other hand barely managing to land on his stomach before her chin hits his shoulder. Kylo lets out a loud curse and Rey lets out a scream, her tongue having caught between her teeth. She can taste blood as she collapses in an ungraceful lump in his arms, Kylo's giant arms having shot out to catch and engulf her in an attempt to get her upright. Rey's eyes are watery and she whimpers as she looks up, tasting the metallic tang of her blood against her teeth. Kylo's trying to work his jaw out from potential dislocation, and she can't help but see the sheen of tears in his eyes as well.

She untangles herself from his arms and tries to sit up, and it isn't until he uses a hand to her thigh to right her that Rey jumps.

"I need to call Finn," she says hurriedly through the pain. Her tongue positively _hurts_. Kylo frowns at her, but moves out of the way to let her pass. Rey runs towards her phone, uncaring that she's basically in her underwear, and digs her phone out of her bag. When she turns around Kylo's averted his eyes, choosing instead to take on a practiced study of the curtains's ugly pattern. She looks at her phone.

No battery.

"Fuck," she mutters, then bolts out of the room for the stairs, uncaring that she's still in her underwear. It's not like the man hadn't seen her legs before. There's no sight of Penny and Martin, but her brain's too busy elsewhere to notice. She latches onto the phone as soon as she gets there and dials, fingers flying over the old buttons as she holds in a breath.

Please pick up.

Please pick up.

Nothing.

"UGH!" she nearly screams, turning around only to see Kylo slowly walking down the stairs, hands inside his sweatpants' pockets. He comes to stand at the foot of the stairs and Rey only has just enough time to notice how beautiful he looks leaning against the stair's post, tall and imposing, features cleverly clear of any expression as he regards her.

"You can use my phone, if you'd like," he finally offers, his voice a rumble. Rey swallows then stares at the old phone on the wall.

"It's fine. He's not picking up anyway," she says, then looks at him with disbelieving eyes. "A whole day? I was out a whole day?"

Ren nods.

She could cry. Finn would have expected her in Dublin by now. She should have been, for all intents and purposes, calling Finn her fiance right now rather than her boyfriend. Instead she's here at a meddlesome couple's bed and breakfast with the only person she knows in this whole country, and _knowing_ Kylo Ren is a bit of a stretch. Kylo tilts his head lightly, warily, and the back of Rey's neck heats as she gets a view of a thick, long neck. She looks away.

That's not a bodily response she should be having. Up until the previous night — _two nights ago_ , she reminds herself — she could look at his neck and feel nothing. Her eyes swivel back on him as realization hits her.

"Did I—" she starts, swallowing. Rey knows of only two other times this has happened before: once, when she got drunk off her ass, and another when she was so feverish she'd come on strong with Finn. At least Finn was dating her at the time. _This_ man, however… "I'm sorry, you said I was… ah— delirious?"

"Fever," Kylo corrects, brows furrowing, but she can see a creep of color making its way up his neck. "You really don't remember?"

Oh, God.

Oh, God.

 _You really don't remember_ is _not_ how she wanted to start this day.

Those words were _always_ trouble. Always.

Rey looks at him, and her fear must be plastered over her face because Kylo's shoulders tense and he hunches in on himself a little, trying to make himself smaller.

"Nothing happened. You were running a temperature. I took care of you. Penny and Martin left for—"

"Wait, they what?" She asks. Rey looks around, realization dawning on her. She hadn't seen Penny and Martin because they weren't even there. Rey closes her eyes before she rounds on Kylo, voice taking on a rather shrill note. "What do you mean they left?"

"They had affairs in Dublin to deal with," he says, only for Rey to cut him off.

"Wait, so you mean they were on their way to _our_ destination?! Why are we even _here?!"_

"You were extremely sick," he says, holding up a hand to keep her temper tantrum at bay, then narrows his eyes at her. "And if it's quite alright with you, I wasn't going to nurse a sick person on the road. So I paid for our stay while they're gone the next three days. Perhaps a thank you is in order?"

Three-

"Three _days?!"_ Rey screeches. Maybe it's a leftover of her fever, because she's not quite in her right mind. That's insane. They weren't returning for three days? Did he expect them to just hang around housesitting for that long? No, she has to get a hold of Finn.

She bolts past Kylo, very nearly shoving him out of the way as she runs up the stairs. Her phone's still on the bed. She finds the charger, and, as if on cue, Kylo once again appears and digs in his bag for his converter. He passes it to her with stiff fingers. Rey gives him a small look before muttering a thank you that's barely audible to her ears much less his, then sets to waiting.

The time it takes for a phone to charge suddenly feels horribly long.

"I'll… go get breakfast," Kylo says to the room, as if unsure if he should even speak to her right now. Rey's eyes are glued on the little phone screen.

It takes so long. So, so long.

Once it finally charges, Rey pounces on the device and unlocks it.

There's a rush of old, incoming text messages:

 **From Finn: 12:59pm:**

Hi Peanut, call me when you get this.

 **From Poe, 1:00pm:**

Hi Rey! Heard you were in Ireland. Welcome! Can't wait to see you. LET'S GET YOUR BOYFRIEND DRUNK!

 **From Finn, 1:02pm:**

Hi Rey, please don't pay attention to Poe. He's got a few too many in him already. Call me when you can.

 **From Finn: 2:00pm:**

Rey?

 **From Finn, 2:05pm:**

Peanut? Are you not okay?

 **From Finn: 4:00pm:**

You must be on the road but… as soon as you get this, call me. I got news.

 **From Finn: 4:21pm:**

Rey? Did you get my message? If you did, I'm sorry I couldn't get a hold of you. I tried. Trust me. I'm getting worried. Call me.

And then there are about ten missed calls.

An obnoxious set of beeps later, Rey sees the two voicemails. She frowns, playing the first one on speaker. The sound of Finn's lovely voice bounces around the room as she finally sets about putting on a pair of pants. Kylo walks up the stairs and leans against the doorframe, quietly munching on a piece of toast.

" _Rey? Rey. I tried to reach you but you weren't picking up. I assume you're still traveling here. I just, I was hoping I could tell you this in person? Or, at least, via a conversation rather than a message. I just got news that we're moving crew. Something happened and the magazine's ordered us to up and go. They scheduled our flight already for this afternoon. I won't be here when you get here…"_

Rey gapes at the phone. Kylo arches an eyebrow at it.

" _When_ are _you getting here? No matter. I have left instructions with the hotel to forward you my address as soon as you get here."_

Finn goes on to give her the hotel name.

" _And I've already paid for you to stay a few days, if you want. Otherwise, here's their number if you want to cancel."_

The rest of the message is a bunch of rushed questions and explanations as to why he's moving spots, Finn's voice sporting an apologetic tone throughout the whole thing, and promising her that he would call her again as soon as he got to his destination.

A couple of days. Rey could wait a couple of days. She looks at Kylo.

There's a second message.

" _Rey? Why are you not picking up your phone? Did you lose it? I bet you lost it, you're always losing everything. You'd lose your head if it wasn't attached to your shoulders."_

Hah, funny of him to say that, Finn the klutz who always keeps forgetting where he put his keys and burning pots because he forgets the water's boiling. Dude could make a mean lasagna, though. Rey scowls at the phone. Had she been looking, she would have noticed the tiny quirk of Kylo's lips drawing up, but Rey's too busy fisting her hands at her sides and staring murder at the phone.

" _Anyway, in_ case _you didn't lose your phone. Please call me. We arrived in Portugal."_

Portugal?! How had he not mentioned that the first time. Kylo clears his throat at the door and she looks up at him as he thumps at his chest, having choked on toast. It seems the giant man had the same thought. Rey snarls at the phone and crosses her arms, having nothing else to do but sit there, wanting to kick a table.

" _We got our assignment today. It's going to be a bit of a long stay."_

 _WHAT?!_

 _"I'm sorry, peanut. Is it too late for you to get a plane ticket?"_

Rey breathes deep in through her nose, out through her mouth. Repeatedly. She doesn't have the funds for a new plane ticket, and if she changes hers she won't be able to get home. As it was, her departure date was rapidly approaching. She could ask Finn for money, but no, she would not take Finn's money, not when she's so raving mad at him she could spit. Plus Finn barely has more than she does. She stands.

 _"Well… call me. Let me know what your plans are. I am so sorry I couldn't be there. I so want to see you! Miss you."_

Rey can hear Finn's muttered hopes about her hopefully not having lost her phone as he hangs up.

"Not how you wanted this to go, I take it?" Kylo asks, half eaten toast in his hand. Rey scowls.

"Does it sound like this is how I want it to go?" she snips, and Kylo drops his hand, wearing a scowl of his own.

"Hey, don't take it out on me. This one's not my fault, for once," he says, voice lowering. Rey can almost swear that he grows taller, wider, by the second. She gulps and looks at the phone in her hand. He's right, none of this his fault.

"Sorry." Rey stares at the room. "Now what?"

She knows exactly what happens next. And she avoids it, because her annoyance and disappointment might just get the best of her and she's seriously far too wired up right now to deal with this. The headache she's been carrying since she woke up only seems to make it worse, tiny floaters crossing her vision as Rey sits back down on the bed.

Fucking wonderful.

Finn had picked up and left to Portugal of all places, and Rey had not known because she'd been sick. How is this her life?

As if on cue, she shudders and sneezes, her nose itchy. Yep. Kylo hadn't been lying. She'd been sick. She still is. Rey looks up at Kylo, guilt streaked on her face.

Right.

Might as well just do this now and get the pain over with.

"I'm sorry," she says then lifts herself up off the bed and walks past him. "Excuse me."

Kylo watches her go. She takes the stairs slowly, bare toes pressing into the creaking wooden planks, cold against the balls of her feet as Rey tries to bring her breathing and heartrate back down. This is _not_ what she'd wanted. She pops her neck once she's at the bottom of the stairs then looks at the sitting room. She should go in there. There are old, well-worn couches she can take. The sunlight streaming through the windows catches her eye, though, and Rey remembers the hellish rain of days ago.

She walks outside instead.

The ground under her is warm and soft, and the dirt pushes in between her toes as Rey wanders to the back of the house towards the one white wrought-iron bench, gripping her phone in a death grip while staring at her feet. This could not possibly be happening.

Rey hits the speed dial, then listens carefully to the ringtone, praying Finn will pick it up. On the third, Rey hears his voice. She sits down on the bench and stares at her knees.

" _PEANUT! Oh thank God._ " Finn says, bubbling with excitement and relief.

"Hi," she says, tone neutral. Before she can say anything else, Finn continues.

" _Oh, Rey, I honestly thought you'd lost your phone. Are you okay? Are you in Dublin? Did you check in?_ "

Finn's questions keep rushing like a stream while Rey listens, playing with a red thread coming away from her shirt. The one she'd been wearing two days ago. Rey cringes. She'd need a shower as soon as this conversation was over.

"So you're in Portugal now?" She asks, finally, after Finn starts picking up on her silence.

" _I… Yeah. Look, I'm sorry. I know you were excited to see me, Rey,_ " Finn pleads, " _But this is work. I couldn't just… You know how it is._ "

" _Yeah,_ " she responds. She knows how it is. Keeping a job is hard enough without making exceptions for crazy girlfriends trekking across the Atlantic. Rey sighs.

"Is Poe in Dublin?" She asks. Maybe she could stay with Poe until Finn got back.

" _No,_ " Finn says, dashing her dreams immediately. " _He got flown over here, too_."

Rey bites her lip. She came here to propose and she'd have to wait.

She could ask him.

She could ask him over the phone to marry her.

Rey looks ahead into the greenery and listens to Finn worry over the phone about not being there. He has good intentions. It's not his fault that she had concocted some crazy-ass plan about going to Ireland to propose to her boyfriend. None of this is his fault. It is hers.

She should tell him.

She should tell him she got sick and isn't even in Dublin by now.

She focuses on a particularly bright green branch with a small bird whose species she can't name perched on it as it sings to itself, uncaring of her problems.

" _Are you okay, Peanut?_ " Finn asks, tone tinged with worry.

"I'm fine," she says. "I'll see you when you get back, yeah?"

…

Silence.

The pause stretches until Rey has to pull her eyes away from the bird. "Finn?"

Finn lets out a strangled sigh.

" _About that…_ " he says, and Rey braces herself. Those are not good words, either. " _I was hoping we could facetime about it or something but… Our assignment's a month, Rey. They basically switched locations on us. And, you know…_ "

Rey nearly chokes. _A month?_

A whole month.

She came here to propose and would have to wait a whole month? But how? It's not like she could stay at that hotel forever.

This could not be happening.

Finn breaks through her panic with a well timed pet name.

" _Peanut?_ " Finn asks, and Rey holds her breath. She can almost see him fidgeting, shuffling his weight as he waits for her to finally unleash on him.

She closes her eyes and tries to concentrate, then lets out a long, drawn out sigh.

"Yeah," she says bitterly. "It's work. I know how it is."

Another heavy pause. Rey hates heavy pauses.

" _Yeah…_ " Finn repeats, " _what do you want to do now? Are you okay?_ "

Rey shrugs, though Finn can't see it. She stares back out towards the branch but the bird's already gone, so she messes with the red thread again.

What _could_ she do? This whole situation doesn't give her a whole lot of options. She chews on her lip.

She'd figure it out. Rey had been nothing throughout her whole life if not resourceful. She could figure this one out without always depending on Finn.

"I'm fine," she lies, "Maybe I'll sightsee first, then go back home. It's not often I go on trips abroad."

There's another strangled sound from Finn's end. He knows. She'd never been out of the country. Or, at least, never since her mother's arrival to the States from England with a very young Rey in tow, looking for fame and fortune, or even just a new start. He knows.

" _I'm sorry, Peanut…_ " he murmurs, and it's so pained that a small part of Rey can't help but ease up on her frustration and anger. None of this is his fault.

"Don't worry about it," she lies again, "I'll figure it out."

How was she going to get to portugal if the wait was more than a few days? She'd have to return home. The thought of returning home curdles her insides, a sickly image of Plutt surfacing to her mind.

She hangs up before Finn can even say goodbye, then sits back on the wrought-iron bench — the one where Ren had cradled her so lovingly two days prior — and stares out into the nothingness. Maybe she could still tag along with Ren to Dublin, then… something.

Ren must have a psychic sixth sense. Just as she's thinking about him, he walks out the house and comes around the corner with two mugs in hand. He hands her one, a steaming mug of coffee exactly how she likes it — he must have remembered — then tilts his head. He remains standing. There's only room for one on the bench. She takes a sip of the drink and sighs, the sandpapery texture of her throat easing up a little.

"Thank you," she murmurs, not quite meeting Kylo's eyes. She'd basically yelled at him, and none of this was his fault, either. "I'm sorry about earlier."

"I can still take you to Dublin," he says from overhead, glossing over her apology. Rey shrinks in on herself. "I'm sure I can get one of the neighbors to keep an eye on Penny and Martin's house until they're back."

Rey stares at her mug in one hand, her phone on the other, and remains silent, but she can only keep silent for so long as frustration bubbles up again.

"He's gone for a month. I can't stay in Dublin that long."

Kylo hums, and Rey watches the steam rise from her mug.

A whole month.

She could delay a couple of days… but not a month. Rey thinks back to her one maxed out credit card and the only dangerously close to maxing out. The few hundred dollars in her bank account, and the gift card from the airline that Kylo had given her. Even adding it all up, it wouldn't be enough to carry her through a month. It's not even enough to buy another airplane ticket.

"He paid for your hotel room for a few days though, didn't he?" Kylo provides, probably trying to be helpful, though it does little to comfort her. Rey nods.

She could maybe find a job. Something under the table that would allow her to just pay for room and board somewhere until she could reunite with Finn.

"I could take you there," Kylo offers.

Or… she could go home.

Rey cringes. Kylo speaks again, perhaps having misread her flinch, or perhaps uncomfortable with her silence after nothing but noise from her for days on end now.

"Then again, we could just stay here until Penny and Martin return. A whole house with a garden is better than an empty hotel room."

Rey finally looks up at him, and his eyes spark golden brown. She almost forgets why she'd looked up, before she shakes herself out of it.

"I guess so," she offers, trying to smile. "At least you're here. Knowing one insufferable asshole is better than knowing no one."

Kylo smirks. He must be learning how to read her, that he's taken no offense to it. Then he snorts to himself and looks away, towards the tree line, and the morning light casts him in such perfect contrast she could follow the lines of his cheekbones as if she were running a finger on a marble statue.

"Helpless duckling. You would have probably been dead by now without me," he teases, but she knows he doesn't mean it. When he looks back at her, the smile disappears. "A couple of days, then? I already paid for our stay."

Rey looks back at her mug, forgetting to berate him for once again throwing money at things that immediately concerned her, too busy worrying. She takes a few gulps of her coffee, praying for the caffeine to ease away the headache, ignoring the burn on her bruised tongue. Staying in Dublin on her own does not sound appealing whatsoever. Neither does returning to Plutt without Finn, unless absolutely necessary.

That alone decides her.

She could delay.

"A couple of days," she agrees.

* * *

 **A/N:** Sorry for the two day delay! holidays and all. We're back and running, though. This story updates Fridays!


	16. Chapter 16: Truth or Dare

Kylo follows Rey into the kitchen, watching her as she goes to the sink to wash and rinse out her mug. They'd stood around outside, delighting in the rare morning light, until her coffee was gone and his tea had turned cold. She turns around and walks towards him, quietly taking the mug from his hands, her fingertips barely brushing his, and repeats the washing and rinsing process. Kylo bites the inside of his cheek.

He hadn't been able to help but to listen in on the conversation outside — or at least, her side of the conversation — as he'd walked out and waited just around the corner, two mugs in hand. Up until that point, he'd been used to snark, to teasing, and even, to an extent, laughter in her voice. The sound of her dejection had twisted in his chest. Rey finally puts away the mugs and turns to look at him.

He can tell she's trying for chipper, but the way her lids droop slightly, her shoulders sag, the way she leans back into the counter, knuckles white on the edge… well, that's a poor imitation of chipper. He bites his lip harder.

"Are you hungry?" he asks, because it's easier to talk about food than it is to talk about her recent bout of disappointments. As if just _waiting_ to be addressed, her stomach grumbles. It drags a small smile from him. Kylo drags out a chair from the small table in the kitchen and motions her to sit, and Rey obeys, surprisingly. She doesn't hum this time.

He turns around and starts looking for ingredients. He doesn't know her, but she seems to love food, and, well… a small breakfast plate in exchange for cheering her up is a small price to pay. Barely anything, really. They'd be stuck here together for a handful of days after all.

"What would you like?" he asks over his shoulder, looking at her out of the corner of his eye and catching her mid-shrug. So he provides the most american thing he can think of. "Eggs and hashbrowns?"

Rey smiles.

Eggs and hashbrowns it is. He grabs some potatoes from a bowl and a shredder. The Irish did not keep the frozen kind around, apparently, or at least, Penny and Martin didn't. He sighs to himself, listening to the _shrr-shrr-shrr_ of potato going through the little square shredder as his muscles work hard to push it through.

 _What are you doing?_ He asks himself, not for the last time.

He'd been asking himself that question since two days prior, but it had only intensified since the previous night, with Rey trying to cuddle herself up to his neck and—

He clears his throat roughly, refusing to dwell on or even acknowledge how he'd been forced to take himself in hand in the shower to calm the raging erection the feverish girl had left him with — it had been shameful, really, and he should know better, and he'd rather forget it ever happened. He chooses instead to listen to the sound of nails drumming on a tabletop.

"So," Rey starts, trying to strike up conversation. Her voice forces him to stand straighter, a marionette suddenly being yanked to life. He looks over his shoulder, his mindless task of shredding potatoes now interrupted.

"So," he repeats, for lack of anything better to say. The way her nose tilts up towards the sun where a lone little ray of light beams through makes him think of the multiple times he'd kissed it, and he turns back to his potatoes, trying to calm his heart.

This girl is _absolutely_ out of reach, and there are a billion and one reasons why he _needs_ to stop noticing these things: her boyfriend being prime example number one.

 _Snap out of it, you idiot_.

She may have purred into his ear in the middle of the night, and set his skin aflame in a way not even Katherine had, but that did not mean he had any right to stare at or think about Rey in any way other than as one somewhat-stranger to another. They had only known each other for a week, at best, for pete's sake.

He swallows.

Rey looks around for something to say. "You're a good cook, then?" she asks. Kylo snorts.

"I am. Why? Is it hard to believe?" he asks, finally setting aside his shredding and turning to look at her with an arched brow. He was proud of very few things in life about himself, but his cooking skills ranked pretty high on that small list of accomplishments. He would _fight_ anyone who thought his cooking was bad.

Rey grins, obviously having picked up on his defensiveness, then wrinkles her nose. He swallows.

"I don't know, you don't seem like the type," she says, flicking a small bit of non-existent crumb off the table. He snorts again.

 _Stop noticing her button nose already!_ He shouts to himself even as he pastes on a minute smirk.

"And who are you to judge? You, murderer of vegetables, telling _me_ I don't seem like the type." He says, swinging his arm with all the melodrama in the world. It earns him a small giggle.

Good.

"I only have one dish to go by," she says, sticking out her lower lip in what she must think is a show of petulance. Kylo's smirk grows. Anything to keep her mind occupied and away from the bad news she'd received. She'd already been through plenty in a matter of… what? Six days?

It could hardly seem that way, but yeah. Six days. Less than a week.

"If you hadn't been feverish out of your mind, you would have maybe remembered my delicious chicken noodle soup. That only comes out on very special occasions," he teases, pointing the shredding square at her accusingly.

Rey's cheeks turn beet red.

Oh.

Stupid man. Why bring _that_ up? He turns red as he remembers what that fever had led to: Kylo, fist wrapped around his cock as he angrily jerked himself to the beating drum of the shower's water raining on him, the cold stream having failed to cool him down no matter how long he'd stood underneath it. Kylo grunts.

"I mean—" he starts, but Rey cuts him off.

"About that," she murmurs, looking away from him. "I— well, thank you. For, you know… taking care of me, and all. All jokes aside, I probably would have very much ended up dead somewhere had it not been for you up to this point."

Rey looks at her red shirt, the one she's been wearing for two days, and fidgets with a loose thread. Kylo nibbles on the corner of his bottom lip, rubbing his thumb over the nail of his pinky finger before stretching his hands and relaxing them, all lecherous thoughts forgotten.

"I hope you know I meant it in jest," he says, his adam's apple adjusting as Rey shifts in her seat. A small smile graces her face but she still avoids looking up.

"Yes, but it's nonetheless still true."

Kylo clears his throat and turns back to his shredding. The rest of breakfast is a quiet affair, Kylo placing a plateful of food in front of Rey and watching her devour it despite her constant sniffling. She's still sick, so when she empties out her glass of orange juice, he quietly tops it again. She only half notices.

"So, now what?" he asks, and Rey looks around the room, sniffling. She grabs their dishes and busies herself cleaning them, giving Kylo a perfect view of her exposed back, hair over one shoulder while she considers what to do next. He's asking about more than just their stay here, but Rey seems resolute to ignore the subject as she stacks the clean plates and cups in the other sink to dry.

"Well…" she begins, then looks down at her clothes once she's done and at him sheepishly. "Uh, actually… I don't know about you but I need a shower ASAP."

Kylo hums. He does, too. He motions for her to go first, deciding to wait out in the kitchen, but soon enough he hears her coming down the stairs again. Kylo looks around the corner to see her disappear down a hall, towards the room with the clawfoot tub. He shakes his head, then makes his way upstairs to shower.

The spray of water running down his muscles reminds him of what he'd done the night before and Kylo is quick to finish showering with record speed. By the time he's done getting ready for the day it's started raining. Of course it'd rain. When did it _ever_ stop raining in this place?

He finds her by the big window, staring out into the rain.

"Are you alright?" he asks, and is pleasantly surprised to see that Rey doesn't jump. She's grown comfortable to his voice. Rey only turns her head around, semi-damp curls framing her ears and gives him a small, tired smile.

"Fine," she says, before turning back to the window. "Just… thinking. There's nothing else to do around here but think," she continues sardonically, and Kylo snorts.

 _Isn't that the truth, sister._

"We could—" he looks around, then realizes Penny and Martin have no TV. No wonder the couple had been so invested in Kylo and Rey. A whole, brand new source of entertainment had barged into their home and they had been eager to instigate it. Another snort. "Nevermind, you're right. There's nothing to do here."

Rey chuckles at his side then walks away from the window and sits on a small, plush chair. Kylo shoves his hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall. They stare at each other for an uncomfortably long amount of time, since there's also nothing else to look at. When he starts feeling a creep of heat going up his collarbone as his eyes land on her lips, however, Kylo clears his throat.

"So…" he says.

"So…"

"Now what?"

"Let's play a game."

Kylo arches an eyebrow. _A game?_

 _"_ Haven't you had enough of games for a lifetime?" he asks, blinking lazily at her. Rey smiles.

"What, would you prefer we sit here and stare at each other all day?"

Part of him, a _very_ quiet part that is treacherous and unwelcome, whispers its assent. Kylo shakes his head, both at her and at the little voice.

"What game?" he asks, and Rey looks around the room again.

Her eyes land on the bottles of alcohol on the rack and Kylo's eyebrows fly up, up, up.

"Let's play truth or dare. The way it's _supposed_ to be played," she says, then smirks. "Though I say we also take shots."

Kylo narrows his eyes at her and she grins.

"What?" she asks, feigning a haughty air that only makes her look like a child trying to play at being a grown up. "There's nothing else to do."

So they play Truth or Dare the way it's meant to be played, taking shots of brandy in between.

The truths and the dares are mostly silly things. What your most embarassing moment in elementary school was, or, run up and down the stairs five times. They end up drinking half a bottle this way, until even Kylo's starting to feel a little buzzed. He looks at the clock. It's the middle of the day.

Rey's head is propped down on the table where she'd collapsed into a tired fit of giggles over the latest admission from him — having once worn his mother's super high heels and put on lipstick as a toddler, then having paraded around the house with a towel worn as a cape, a bucket under his arm, screaming he was Darth Vader. Kylo shakes his head.

"Come on," he says, taking the bottle away and getting up slowly to return it to its rightful place. "Before you turn into a weepy drunk on me."

Rey snorts, head still down. They'd exhausted themselves running up and down the stairs, trying to juggle random household objects, and drinking plenty in between every time one of them took a shot.

"I make a hilarious drunk, thank you very much," she slurs a little, and Kylo smiles.

Doesn't he know it.

"Fine, hilarious drunk," he replies before plopping himself back down on the chair. "I think we've had enough of truth or dare."

He'd found himself taking care of this girl. Day in and day out for a week now, his life had revolved around the hurricane of unfortunate events that was hers, and somehow he'd allowed himself to be swept along. He should stop, he thinks, but when she looks up at him through impossibly beautiful lashes, it's hard to remember the reasons as to why he should.

Rey shakes her head. "Not even close. Truth or dare."

Kylo arches an eyebrow, then rolls his eyes. Still, he indulges her. That, too, he finds himself doing at every chance he gets for absolutely no reason he can imagine.

"Fine, truth. Even though I am pretty sure it was supposed to be my turn to ask."

Rey ignores him, something she's so adept at doing, then points at him.

"Why exactly are you in Ireland? You said business, but it's been a week. Wouldn't business — or, really, your uncle — be calling you at all hours of the day to show up by now? Are you lying? Are you really running from the law? Are you a convict with a dark and mysterious past and have I spent the last week walking next to a murderer?"

Kylo stares, then a laugh worms up his throat and booms around the living room. Oh, she's drunk alright, and she _is_ right. She's a hilarious drunk.

"None of the above, though you wound me, thinking that I could be a murderer," Kylo teases as he shakes his head, leaning back into his chair with a sigh. "And I really am here on business. There's just nobody waiting for me to get there, really. I could take all the time in the world and nobody would notice nor care."

That was more he'd shared with _anyone_ about his plans. Rey hums.

"That's sad," a drunken Rey murmurs. He looks at her then, and her eyes are suddenly just a little duller. Kylo hums.

"What about you? Truth or Dare, and you only get to pick truth."

Rey lifts up her head and arches an eyebrow at him.

"That's not how this game is played," she retorts and he smirks.

"It is when you accuse me of being a murderder." Kylo smarms, giving her a mischevious glance. The girl before him is not one to back out from a challenge, however, so she calls out _Truth_ with her nose held up in the air. He smiles.

"Alright, I told you why I'm here. Now you, why are _you_ really here?" He asks, and Rey blinks, so he quickly adds. "I admit even _I_ would have long ago taken a flight right back to the States if I had to put up with as much as you've had. Are you pregnant and trying to break the happy news? There's Skype for that, you know?"

He's teasing — _she'd_ called _him_ an escaped convict, after all — but Rey's cheeks redden.

 _Shit._

Kylo shuts up immediately, clamping his teeth down. Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

He opens his mouth to apologize, to say he overstepped and he's sorry, when Rey lets out a breathy grunt.

"No, I'm not pregnant," she says, carefully avoiding his eyes. Their beautiful golden hazel green color seems to fade a little at that. "I came to propose, actually."

 _That_ takes him by surprise. Kylo's not one to be taken by surprise very often, but this girl keeps setting the record for new things in his life. Yet he also finds it _so_ ridiculous that she's put up with all of this just to _propose_ that the words spill out of him before he can stop them with a laugh.

"You mean you've trekked all the way to Ireland and put up with all this bullshit just to put a ring on it?" He asks, incredulous. "Isn't that _his_ job? Couldn't it have waited until he got back home?"

"No," she replies curtly. Kylo chews on his lip, but she continues. "No, it couldn't wait. I want to start a family, and…"

She hesitates, and it gets the best of his curiosity. This is the most she's ever said about herself and her life.

"And what?" he asks, tilting his head. What well of determination is she dipping into that she would go to _these lengths_ for a man, even if he is Prince Charming? He asks as much.

That had been his mistake.

"What?" Rey asks, her tone turning icy. "Is it so inconceivable that somebody could want to spend the rest of their lives with somebody they love, and love them enough to make an honest effort to try and make it a reality?"

 _Yes_ , his brain provides. Images of Hux, of Katherine, of Snoke and Sons, of his parents, of his _stupid life_ and every relationship that had ended in heartbreak flash across his mind.

He knows his experiences are coloring his vision when he speaks next.

"A proposal is hardly worth all this."

Oh.

Oh he should have kept his mouth shut.

"And who died and made _you_ the voice of reason on this planet? You barely seem like you've seen the right side of a loving relationship _once_ in your life, so forgive me when I say, you don't get to judge me for my choices! You dont _know_ me!" she barks.

Kylo tenses, his muscles wiring up, ready to spring; his jaw aches as he clenches on it to keep from saying something he might regret, and _oh_ how he wants to say something he would definitely regret. Then…

Rey's eyes widen slightly as she realizes what she'd said about somebody _she_ doesn't know. She takes in a deep breath and he can _sense_ her wanting to hunch in on herself, but if he's come to know anything about her, is that the girl would always act exactly the opposite of how she should. She squares her shoulders.

"And I don't know you," she continues. "So how about we just… don't do this?"

The silence stretches for a heartbeat.

 _Fine. He could do that just fine._

Kylo stands up.

No, he's not going to engage. No, he's not going to look at her stupidly beautiful eyes and wide pout, and he would _not_ say something to this perfect stranger about _his_ feelings. That doesn't stop him from glaring at her with absolute ice. He watches her shiver, and fucking _good_. How dare she?

They had been doing so well.

He turns around to leave, resolute in keeping his mouth shut, when — of course —she speaks.

"Kylo," she calls with a tired sigh.

Placating. Perhaps realizing _she_ had also overstepped. Yet it's the sound of her voice that finally snaps him.

He swivels around and stalks back, footsteps stomping on the wooden floor as he reaches her and grabs her by the shoulders. He pulls her up and out of the chair until she's at full height, staring up at him. His head dips until they're inches apart, determined to make a point, to make her _see him_ as he does. Her breath is ragged on his cheek and his hot on hers. The heat and the smell of brandy mingles between them and were he a crazed man he'd dip down and devour her, but he's a different kind of crazed now.

"No," he says. "You said it right, sunshine. I _don't_ know you. But you don't know me either, so how about we keep it that way? A handful of days and you can go right back to chasing after your knight in shining armor, the one who can't seem to bother trying to maybe — oh, I don't know — take a single day off work to come see his girlfriend. The girlfriend who's been chasing him halfway across the world? You know, that one."

Rey's eyes widen, then narrow, because who is she if not somebody ready for a fight. He'd already run into this with her before. It comes as no surprise. Kylo's eyes narrow to slits. He's gone too far, _way too far,_ but her words about never having been invested in a loving relationship — about never having been loved — had been so cutting. They _cut_ him and he's been bleeding for a little too long. She opens her mouth to talk, but he cuts her off. His breath rustles the baby hairs at her ears and he growls.

"Then you can get one one knee, and propose, and go back to your perfect little life. Yes, we can stay strangers just fine. Then maybe one day you'll tell your hazel eyed babies about the _asshole_ you met in Ireland — the one who's never been in a _loving relationship_ — who nursed you to health while your boyfriend never made so much as an effort to find you other than leaving you a handful of messages. Can we do that, Rey?" He seethes, but Rey's turning redder by degrees and _oh_ she's beautiful when she's angry. He's not much better off, though. He continues. "Yes, yes I think we can."

He drops her shoulders then and stalks off, ignoring the small amount of tears rimming her lashes even as an unconscious part of his brain sends signals to his heart to ache and twist at the sight.

Kylo stomps outside into the drizzling rain in a fury and towards the backyard because his other options are rather limited, kicking the _stupid white iron bench_ until it tips over on its side, sending up a sad splash of rain. Thank God for steel toed boots.

The next fifteen minutes are spent walking back and forth muttering about silly little girls who think that they can just _up and chase_ love and it'll just drop into their laps if they work at it hard enough and get on one knee.

He's sure he's made the biggest mistake of his life, and that probably made him the biggest fool in the world. He'd promised he'd see her to Dublin, and now he'd just gotten in her face when it hadn't been his place to do so, but _GOD! The_ _woman is infuriating!_

Kylo kicks the bench a second time for good measure before taking in a deep breath and righting it. Thankfully there's no damage on Penny and Martin's property.

He should go in there and apologize.

He really should.

He had let his own experiences color the whole situation and it wasn't _her_ fault. He should go apologize.

When he walks inside she's nowhere to be seen. He sighs, shaking out the water from his clothes and running his hands through already messy, damp hair. He shouldn't have gotten in her face either. What was he thinking? Hadn't he learned his lesson? But it had been so easy to close in when just the previous night she'd been nuzzled into his neck, and the reminder burns inside his chest.

No. She's _proposing_ to her boyfriend. God knew he should not even _think_ of her.

He stalks upstairs, taking the stairs two at a time, but finds the bedroom door shut. There's a note taped on it, written in hurried, bubble-like print. Kylo would roll his eyes if not for the situation.

 _"The asshole can go sleep elsewhere."_ He murmurs under a whisper as he reads it.

Had she really thought he'd be sharing the room with her to begin with? That twists his stomach again and he drops his head back, taking a deep breath on the inhale.

"Rey," he calls out.

Nothing.

He sighs.

"Rey," he repeats. He rasps his knuckles on the door. "Are you in there?"

Nothing.

Except the light is on and he _knows_ she's there.

"Rey," he repeats once more, dropping his hand from the door. "I'm sorry."

Nothing.

Kylo shakes his head. His things are all in that bedroom, and he's _damp_. He walks over to the room next door, shedding his clothes all the way down to his boxers, and plops down on the bed. Thankfully he'd at least left the sheets on the previous night when he'd collected all the comforters. Kylo pulls out his phone from his discarded jeans' pocket and looks at the time.

Early evening.

He doesn't feel like cooking. He doesn't feel like eating, or going to go find another book for him to stare at without reading. He feels like closing his eyes and letting death take him for his stupidity.

So he does. For hours, and hours.

Soon enough he's snoozing, trying to ignore the shiver running up and down his naked spine. He concentrates harder on falling asleep and manages _just so_ when he hears a door creaking open. His ears prick up.

There are tiny steps. Cautious steps on creaking wood. Kylo's brows go up but he refuses to open his eyes, listening as yet another door opens. His door.

He stays still. As still as he can despite the shivering twitchy mess his muscles have become only to feel a soft weight on him.

A comforter. A set of them

Kylo finally cracks an eye open and looks at the bearer of the comforters. Rey's standing at the edge of the bed, shifting her weight uncomfortably while trying to avoid looking at him. She thinks he's asleep, so he closes his eyes and waits. Then the soft fabric over his body moves. She's tucking him in.

He bites back the tiny smile threatening to curl up his lips as Rey lets out a huffy breath, murmuring about irritating men. She may be mad at him, but for once she's the one looking out for _him_. He feels all his irritation leaking away.

She hesitates a little longer once done and Kylo has to put a lot of energy into keeping his eyes shut. Still… He needs to apologize. When she finally moves to walk away, he lets his arm come out from under where she'd securely tucked him in and he grabs her wrist. Rey swivels. She hadn't expected him to be awake.

"Hey," he murmurs, dropping her wrist immediately. He shouldn't be touching her. Instead Kylo sits up and plants his elbows on his bent knees, and Rey carefully avoids looking at his face, or his chest, or anywhere, really. He shakes his head.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. Rey moves to walk out again and so he does what he _shouldn't_ do with a girl whose hazel eyes had started haunting him in a matter of days. He grabs her hand and tugs her back.

Rey doesn't fight him.

"I really am sorry," he reiterates. Rey bites on her lower lip. "I shouldn't have."

Rey shakes her head, but she says nothing, and Kylo can see the shine of tears against the moonlight. His gut twists, his heart aches, and his muscles tense in a painful way, tingling to his fingertips.

"Hey, hey," he murmurs, reaching forward and pulling her down until she sits on the bed at his legs. "I'm sorry. Don't cry."

His thumb moves up to brush away the tears, and he feels exactly like the asshole she had called him. Kylo Ren doesn't know how to deal with crying women. Well, he does… just not _this_ specific woman.

"Shhhhhh," he urges, brushing them away as soon as they start falling. Rey lets out a little hiccup. "I was a complete jerk, and I'm sorry. Please don't cry."

Rey hiccups again then sniffs. Strong little trooper. She dries her eyes quickly and gives him what she might have thought would pass for a smile.

"I'll be fine," she says, then looks at the blanket she'd wrapped around him. "I figured you'd be cold."

Kylo smiles lightly.

"I guess we're even now. You took care of me. That's very kind of you."

Rey snorts, "A single blanket doesn't add up to what you've done for me."

Kylo bites his lip and he dares run his thumb over her cheek once again to wipe away a leftover tear track.

"I just—" she says, then changes course. "I'm sorry about what I said. It was uncalled for."

As if what he'd said hadn't been _entirely_ fucking uncalled for. He sighs, running his fingers through his hair.

"Forget about it. We're fine."

Rey gives him a skeptical look and he can't help but notice her lashes clumped together from the tears, eyes impossibly bright. The way moonlight bathes her in the darkness of the room. The creamy texture of her skin reflecting light. He should _not_ be noticing. He pulls his eyes away.

Then…

Then Rey does something he would have never thought would ever happen. She asks him for something.

"I… Kylo? I—" she begins, then grunts at herself and stares at her hands. "Look, I know we barely know each other. I was a massive bitch, _again_ , but… Could I—"

She hesitates, looking out the door. Kylo frowns. Despite himself, he tilts her chin until she looks at him.

What alternative reality is he living in that this is even remotely _happening_? This girl wants to be engaged to another man. He's only known her for a week. They had _just_ finished screaming at each other that very same afternoon. Still, the way her voice dips and wavers forces him to make her look.

"Could you… what?" he asks.

Rey bites down on her lower lip hard before forcing her eyes on him.

"You don't owe me anything. I just… Could I stay here? I don't… sleep well in empty rooms. I haven't for a very long time, and… well…"

 _That's_ _what she_ wants _from me?_

Kylo swallows. He licks his lips, thinking back to all the times they'd spent together. She hadn't slept by herself once. This is an unfamiliar house. There could be a billion reasons why.

Oh, God, but this is so far past the line of reasonable. He should say no. She wants another man and he's started to notice small things about her and by _God_ what she'd done to him the previous night… But her shoulders deflate the longer he stays silent and she looks down at her hands nervously again, so he, stupid man that he is, does exactly what he shouldn't.

He pulls the sheet back and scoots over, inviting her in.

"Come on," he says.

Rey scoots in nervously and rests her head down on the pillow that _used_ to be his as he lowers himself down on the other side. She tucks in her limbs and he tucks in his so nothing's touching, and they lie there, staring at each other for way too long. Still, Rey gives him a tiny smile. A small white flag waved.

"Good night," she says.

Kylo watches her a moment longer after she closes her eyes, hair cascading over her neck and spilling onto the pillow, and she's so _bright_ it almost hurts to look at her.

"Good night," he repeats. He closes his eyes.

He can make it through the night.

He can.

He can.

This becomes his new mantra.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for all the love lately! I really appreciate those messages ;-; they make me so happy. This story is now rated M! cause, you know ;) and will continue to update Fridays.


	17. Chapter 17: Tylenol

**WARNING** : This chapter covers mentions of Rey's past abuse (Plutt being disgusting to a minor, really) that may be triggering to some. Please proceed carefully.

* * *

When she finally hears his breath even out, feels it gently ghosting over her cheeks as it pushes out of a too-big frame in hot, long exhales, Rey opens her eyes. He's dipped in darkness, the only light source the moon behind his head as it lights up his impossibly shiny hair in an icy halo. Rey blinks, breathing shallow air to keep from disturbing him while her vision adjusts. One by one, his features become discernible. His strong cheekbones, long nose, oddly angular chin. His impossibly long, thick lashes and his wide pout parted lightly as his body works on bringing in air.

Rey bites her lower lip, the words he'd practically shouted at her that afternoon playing on loop in her mind, a barrage of doubts crashing into her as she examines the tiny moles that dust his face.

It had taken all of her composure not to start crying right in front of him. His accusations had hit _too_ close to home, and yet… from where he stood, all of it had been true, right?

Rey, traipsing across the world in pursuit of her happily ever after while not being given the time of the day by her boyfriend. Sure, there are things he doesn't know: the fact that Rey and Finn's lives had never been perfect, the fact that Finn could _not_ compromise his job because of her recklessness, the fact that Rey had been losing her nerve the longer this nightmare of a trip went on. Still…

Rey lets out a soft sigh, watching Kylo Ren's sleeping face. He looks so young with his guard down. Peaceful. Boyish.

"You just had to go and say those things, didn't you?" she murmurs to herself, both about _her_ accusations and his.

Then something happens she did not expect. Kylo's lashes flutter and his eyes open, and Rey holds her breath, waiting for them to close again. She hadn't intended in waking him up.

They don't. Instead they open to half-mast. She should close her eyes _right this moment_ and pretend to sleep. Getting caught staring would be embarrassing at best, absolutely creepy at worst. Her eyes can't seem to pull away from his as he gives lazy, drunken half-blinks, though. She breathes in quietly and waits for his eyes to unfocus and close.

Instead Kylo lets out a soft puff of breath, a half sigh as he blinks again, his words slow, a deep rumble.

"Decided to haunt me here, too, then?" he murmurs as his eyes survey hers, fall down to her nose, her lips, then back up. "That hardly seems fair."

Rey's eyes widen, her heart stuttering in her chest. Is he… is he awake?

Her immediate desire is to bolt out of bed and run at this _stranger_ telling her she's been haunting him, but she finds herself rooted to her spot, fingers digging into her pillow. Kylo blinks lazily once more and his eyes close a fraction, another puff of hot air hitting her cheeks. His eyes fall closed again and Rey finally breathes.

No. Perhaps he's just sleep talking. Dreaming of somebody else. People had a habit of talking in their sleep sometimes. But the way he'd inspected her face… Rey chews on her lower lip, curiosity getting the best of her.

"Who haunts you?" she murmurs, trying to make her voice a soft whisper so as to not disturb him. His lashes flutter again and he sighs.

"And now you're talking," he says, and a sleepy chuckle escapes him. Rey blinks rapidly, but his eyes remain shut. "With that bell… like… voice."

He seems to be floating back to sleep, but Rey _can't_ stop. It's a twisted thing, her curiosity. But he's asleep, and she barely knows _anything_ about this man. She can't help it.

"A bell?" she whispers, watching as his face scrunches. Then he laughs.

"Yes, a bell, even here in my dreams…" he says, and suddenly Rey realizes what's happening. He's stuck between wakefulness and sleep and he thinks he's dreaming.

"Your bell-like voice… and hazel eyes…" Kylo sighs. She tenses, but _oh_ , he's talking. "And your pouty mouth every time you talk of him…"

Rey frowns.

This is _so_ beyond what this man should be saying to her, but the longer he keeps talking the more curious she gets. He had _thought_ of her eyes? Enough to notice, at least. Kylo rolls his cheek on his pillow, perhaps trying to make himself comfortable, but it only pushes stray locks of hair onto his eyes. Rey licks her lips, torn between wanting to run and wanting to watch him, wanting to hear what he has to say in the quiet of his dreams when his walls are down and he's not angry at her. Would his words change? Or would he still accuse Finn of neglecting her? Would he think her an entitled princess? Rey gently, carefully lifts her fingers and brushes his hair aside, wanting to see his eyes if they open again.

Kylo groans, though. Her fingers had come too close, had touched him too intimately. She tries to withdraw but his hand comes up to cover hers, until it's caged between his fingers and his cheek, and only _then_ does Rey's brain catch up. He's _burning_.

And _of course_ he'd be burning. He'd stalked outside and stomped around in the rain for twenty minutes after their fight. Rey had gotten glimpses of him out the window, watching him stalk back and forth in a line muttering to himself. She purses her lips and forces herself to relax. This is all feverish talk. Feverish talk and he thinks he's asleep. It would mean nothing in the morning.

"You deserve better," he mutters.

Rey nearly swallows her tongue at the words. "What?" she murmurs again, trying and failing to pull her hand away. He has a surprisingly strong grasp even while sleeping.

"You deserve better," he repeats, his eyes _finally_ opening. They're glassy, as if looking far away.

Rey worries at her lower lip, guilt pooling in her stomach that she's allowing even this much. Guilt that when Kylo says those words a small, treacherous part of her heart agrees. Guilt that it's this man she's touching instead of Finn.

Rey looks away from his eyes, focusing out the window instead, staring at the bright white moon as she lets out a pained sigh.

"What would you know about what I deserve," she says the words in a whisper, like smoke in the air. "You barely know me."

Rey tugs her hand away and he follows it. Before she knows it Kylo has scooted over, and her brain rings in alarm when he lifts himself up and cages her underneath him. He's barely holding himself up, really, but his knees are pinning her legs in place and he's pulled himself up, resting on his elbows. She can't look anywhere but up at him as his raven locks cascade around his head. His eyes are still only _barely_ open, but he's looking at her with an intensity she's not sure any man who is feverish and sleep talking should possess.

"I know enough," he mutters, breath turning hotter as it disturbs the small hairs on her temple. His head starts drooping the same way his lids are and Rey's eyes widen, trying to shift under him, though a perverse side of her _still_ begs to hear what he has to say.

"Do you now?" she asks, their conversations taking place in nothing but whispers and murmurs. Rey wiggles a hand up, placing it on his chest to keep him from crashing on top of her, which she wouldn't put past him. She can feel the taut muscle twitching under velvety skin and has to avert her eyes. Kylo lets out a sleepy ' _mmhmmm'_ as his head moves down, his forehead connecting with her collar bone. Rey lets out a sigh of relief. He's falling asleep again.

He stays there for a moment, and she thinks she's safe to move him back to his side when his lips start moving. She chokes on a breath of air. Kylo, in the meantime, brushes a gentle kiss against the curve of her neck, letting out a soft murmured ' _hmhmmm'_ again. Her breath hitches.

"I know that you should be kissed," he whispers, doing the same thing he just said she should receive, as if to demonstrate his point. His lips are so hot a ridiculous part of her brain, the only part that's now processing stimuli where the rest of her body has frozen, tries to tell her that he could probably burn her. He plants another kiss, the spot only to be caressed by another puff of scorching air escaping his lungs before he moves up slightly.

"I know you should be kissed," he murmurs again, "and held, and protected." His lips travel to her exposed shoulder, and this time when the kiss comes accompanied by parted lips a shock of electricity runs through her.

She should _move_.

She should _run_.

She can't make herself do any of those things, except swallow hard and try not to breathe too sharply. Even if she wanted to run, he's now entirely sprawled on top of her, weighing far more than any person should, a boulder made of nothing but muscle and bulk.

"Kylo," she says desperately, the hand now pinned between her chest and his boiling from the absolute _furnace_ that is his body heat. He lets out a soft groan.

"And then you whisper my name," he murmurs, resting his cheek on her shoulder, his breath coming hard against the side of her jaw. His hair is impossibly soft and it tickles her earlobe, but Rey tries her best not to jerk away and bring him to lucidity. _"_ What a cruel…little thing you are…"

His eyes shut again as he brings in air through his nose and out through his mouth, as if trying to come to terms with her cruelty. Rey stares at the ceiling.

This could _not_ be happening.

"I am not cruel," she defends, unsure of whether she's defending herself against a man who's clearly not even self-aware at the moment or against her own heart as it beats desperately out of her chest.

"Hmmmm," Kylo mutters against her, and her heart somehow learns how to do the tango in her chest for a moment when his voice comes hot and low against her skin. She couldn't have ever known what the rumble of his voice in his chest could do to her when it sank into her own. "You _are_ cruel. Your beauty…is cruel… your laugh… is cruel… it's all cruel…even your—" he stops, and Rey splits in two between relief that maybe, _maybe_ he's finally done for good, and frustration at wanting to know the rest. He huffs. "Even your stupidly cute… button nose… is cruel… cruel duckling."

Oh.

Oh if she had _any_ doubts that he was talking about her before, they've been dashed now. He's talking about her, and Rey groans to herself. She tries to push him away gently, but he refuses, his body too leaden-heavy for her. It reminds her of her futile attempts to get him to move back in the hotel room.

Her movements only make _him_ shift, Kylo's gigantic arms moving under her to wrap around her waist, jostling _her_ as if she weighed no more than a feather. Rey feels his lashes flutter against her neck and a yelp dies in her throat. He once again kisses her, this time right where her jaw meets her neck, and she holds back a groan. Still, her _stupid_ body reacts. Her eyes nearly roll back into her head and she has to clench her legs at the unbidden tingling pooling at the junction of her thighs.

"If I were him," Kylo mutters, leaning up again until his nose hovers an inch above hers, eyes _barely_ open and staring at her mouth _, "I'd_ kiss you properly. And never go away…"

He's burning. She can feel his fever radiating off him and he's _awake_ but not, and he's whispering words that by _God_ she had hoped Finn would say even _once_ , and even in his half-gone state this perfect stranger is managing to light up her veins in way that Finn never had.

Finn had always looked at her like she needed to be protected and kissed, but never like this. Never with this intensity. He'd worshipped her as though she were _more_ , yet like a lightning strike, she realizes he had never worshipped her as a _woman_. She clears her throat, trying to push these thoughts away as her eyes travel from one golden brown eye to another, trying to find even a bit of lucidity. When the words stumble out of her, it's too late.

"You're not my boyfriend," Rey murmurs.

Kylo gives a humorless chuckle as he buries his face into her neck. His voice is dark and mouth-watering and Rey _squirms_ because this is just _so very wrong_.

"No…" he sighs, "I'm not. I'm just the asshole…"

The whole exchange has taken less than two or three minutes but Rey's not sure her heart valves can keep up with the strain of trying to pump blood this fast.

"You're not an asshole," she stammers, knowing how stupid it is to try and reassure a man who probably would not remember this in the morning. "You're just dreaming."

"Nice dream," he agrees, sagging back into Rey. "You listen to me in this one… remember… you should be kissed properly. And looked after."

She can't help it. She laughs. Why is he fixating on that one thing? It's gone so far past the line of ridiculous that she can't help herself. She decides to play along with his crazy talk.

"You mean like how you would?" she asks, her lips hovering by his ear. Kylo groans.

"Yes," he replies, his head resting on her pillow.

"You're dreaming," she sighs tiredly, "and feverish."

He's probably delirious and only half asleep, but he's not lucid enough to realize he's actually talking. Then she remembers how _he'd_ taken care of her while she had been sick and feverish. She can't remember any of it except sitting up to drink tea _,_ vestigial memories of Kylo telling her to sit up floating in her mind. So Rey frees a hand and carefully, gingerly runs her fingers through his hair once. It's the least she can do, to provide the sick man some comfort.

How strange, she muses, that she has no problem touching Ren when all her life she had jumped through hoops to avoid others. How strange, that she's lying under his weight –– his _near naked_ weight –– and somehow there are no traces of panic or fear. Rey bites her lower lip when he lets out a huff at the fact that her fingers have stopped moving. She resumes the gentle soothing motions.

 _It's because he'd never try to hurt me_.

Deep inside she knows this. Any other time she would have had a panic attack at being grabbed by the shoulders and hauled up, but she'd only glared at him as he'd seethed into her face, barely registering the touch in her own annoyance with the man. And she hadn't missed the way he'd avoided touching any other woman, yet he somehow kept seeking her out tenderly. He'd never hurt her. So Rey keeps running her fingers through his hair.

"You're such a strange man," she muses, tone dropped to a whisper. Kylo grumbles something against her neck and Rey shakes her head. "He does kiss me, you know? And protect me."

She should drop it. Arguing doesn't gain her anything, but every word he says makes her want to defend Finn, even when something itches in the back of her neck that tells her Kylo speaks truth.

"I bet," Kylo grumbles into her neck, nuzzling it, and Rey has to bite hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from squirming again. "Does it make you… happy…duckling?" he murmurs.

She wonders how he can keep up a dream going so long. Rey can barely remember hers, and the few she has are only ever passing, unless they're nightmares.

"Does what make me happy?" she asks, fingers now absentmindedly carding through his hair while she stares at the ceiling. Maybe once he finally went completely under Rey could push him back towards his side, close her eyes, and pretend this never happened. Yeah, that would be a good course of action.

For now she pets the feverish man out of a sense of duty to ease his illness in any way she can. It had been her fault, after all, for leaving him all night with no blankets or dry clothes.

"How he kisses you…" Kylo mumbles, and is that a _tiny_ amount of jealousy she hears? Rey shakes her head and lets out a soft ' _hmmmm,_ ' but then really thinks about his question.

"I suppose." she replies after a long moment.

It's not like she _didn't_ enjoy it. But Rey also had nothing else to compare it to, except for one faked-kiss with this very man. Finn's kisses were loving, soft and gentle, adoring in a way that made her feel warm and happy. Kylo chuckles. It reminds her of a growl. She thinks if the devil had a laugh, it might sound like this. Like a man who knows more than he lets on when he chuckles, like it carries with it all the sin in the galaxy.

"You don't…" he says, and this time Kylo's eyes _do_ open. He pushes himself up, and when she inspects them they're still glassy and gone. She wonders if he's like her when she's sick, checking out of reality entirely. Before she can deny his statement, however, he speaks.

"Here…" he mumbles, "Let me teach you."

Her throat closes immediately and Rey throws up her hands to his bare chest to try and push him away, but Kylo lowers himself until his lips gently rest unmoving atop hers. This time she _does_ squirm, but by now she's not entirely sure if it's to dislodge him or to calm the throbbing that's beginning between her legs. Rey lets out a strangled ' _Kylo_ ' and that only _drives him_.

The kiss stops being chaste, and it's not careful or quiet like the one in the living room at dinner time. No, this is the sort of kiss Rey had only seen in movies. The toe-curling kind. Kylo presses himself into her until she's been pushed deep into the mattress and urges her to open up with a groan, suckling on her lower lip, licking at her top one, the softness of his mouth bringing about a whole series of physical reactions Rey had _never_ felt from just kissing. He's an expert at this, and _god_ if this is what it's like when he's asleep then what would it be like when he's awake? Kylo growls into her, finally getting what he wanted, and coaxes her tongue into his mouth so he can suckle it, explores her mouth with his tongue and attempts to devour her as he tugs her closer to him, his breathing and hers hot on each other, and despite her mental alarms _screeching_ …

She closes her eyes.

This sort of kiss is new.

This kiss is all sorts of sinful.

This is not how Finn had _ever_ kissed her, and she's curious. Her mind whites out when Kylo once again groans into her, the rumble reverberating inside of her, against her chest. It's a throaty drag that demands more from her, his mouth on hers doing what she had previously thought was unimaginable; Rey finally gives in and _whines_ for him to stop because if he keeps doing this she might regret her whole existence. She can barely breathe as he brings her lower lip into his mouth and rolls it between his teeth, her back arching of its own accord when he then soothes the spot, sucking gently, before taking her once again until she's breathless.

She's kissing a man that's not her boyfriend and while her brain shouts one thing her body and heart do another, and _God_ above she needs to get out of this bed. When he finally pulls away from her, lips parted and tongue just as the edge of his teeth as he looks down at her now-bruised mouth, Rey has to force herself to steadiness by counting back from one hundred. Their shared breath turns misty between them, fever-pitch heat meeting the cold room air as Rey tries to collect herself. He doesn't miss it, though, the way her pulse pops at her neck and her cheeks flush, the way her nostrils flare and her breathing refuses to simmer down. His lashes flutter, eyes _just_ barely open, before he lets out a satisfied, husky sound.

"There," he mumbles, before his head plops back down on the pillow unceremoniously. "Kissed properly." Then he chuckles to himself as Rey stares at his expression wide eyed. He's _officially_ going under. "Funny… you usually don't stay this long."

His breath steadies back down again, deep lungfuls being drawn in and expelled. She stares, her own chest beating erratically. It takes about five tries to dislodge him without waking him, and by the end of it Kylo's on his back, lying spread-eagle on the bed, with Rey barely managing to keep upright at the foot of it.

Nope.

She could not return to that bed again.

She looks around, starting to feel the chill after basically being roasted alive under Kylo's fever-pitched torso. There's nothing there. Rey runs back to the other room, the room where their clothes are. She grabs a comforter and throws it over her shoulders. The only other thing is his hoody hanging on a peg and she would _not_ wear his clothes and smell his cologne after basically being drowned in the sheer smell of him, spicy and woody and _red-hot._ Rey grunts her displeasure and decides to walk off her stupid arousal, walking down stairs and roaming the halls and the rooms silently in the darkness as she restarts her count back down from one hundred.

When she wakes up, it's to the smell of coffee.

Rey blinks with bleary eyes and stares at the mug in front of her, the steam wafting up and towards her nose, and she takes in a deep breath before bolting upright. The comforter over her shoulder falls around her lap and she looks at the coffee. She'd fallen asleep with her cheek on the table.

"That's an interesting choice for sleeping," Kylo murmurs from above her. Her eyes snap up to him. He looks exhausted, no doubt still feeling the effects of his fever the previous night as he pops two Tylenol into his mouth from the bottle in front of him and makes a face at his tea, taking a seat across from her.

She blinks, mouth gaping as a collection of memories rush to meet her… his arms around her, his lips on her neck, her shoulder, her jaw… the mindblowing kiss he'd given her the night before. Her brain does a somersault right along with her stomach at the reminder.

"I—" she starts, and he arches an eyebrow. Somehow, he can meet her eyes _just fine_ , but Rey has to avert hers. So she does the only thing she can, which is to grab onto the coffee mug for dear life and drown in it as an excuse not to interact with the man who had had her nearly panting the night before.

"Good morning," he says after gulping down some tea. "Couldn't sleep?"

 _If you only knew, pal._

"Uhm, no. I woke up and…" Rey starts, then licks her lips, trying to test the waters. "You were mumbling."

"Oh," Kylo says, giving her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you… must have been dreaming."

 _Understatement of the freaking_ year!

"You can go up and nap," he says, tilting his head towards the stairs as he surveys her expression. His eyes fall on her lips only to jerk away. "It's not like we have anything to do or anywhere to be today."

Just as she'd guessed, he doesn't remember. Rey takes in a deep breath and nods, turning back to her mug of coffee. Kylo only frowns at some toast he has in front of him. She notices that he set out a second plate with toast for her as well.

Taking care of her even after they fought.

This reminds her of _why_ they'd fought, however, and Rey sighs. She didn't owe him an answer, yet… she owed him _something_. Rey doubted the kiss he'd given her yesterday was _it_ , but fuck, at least maybe an explanation. If not for Finn's sake then for her own.

"He's a good man," she says around the lip of her mug. Kylo's eyes travel up slowly to meet hers.

He hasn't shaved and she can see the beginnings of a goatee. His hair's in a disarray and he looks a little pale, yet his eyes are sharp and intense and it reminds her a bit too much of the way he'd looked at her the previous night. Her treacherous body tries to rise up to the ocassion so Rey bites down hard on her tongue until it dissipates. Kylo, thankfully, says nothing, leaving her to take a deep breath and strengthen her resolve.

"Finn," she explains. "He's a good man."

"Okay," Kylo says, studying his toast for a moment. It prompts her, some desperate part of her wanting for him to believe her.

"He really is," she offers, "he's kind, and gentle. He would never abandon me here just because he couldn't be assed to come find me…" Rey says. "We can't afford for him to take time off, no matter how much I would have liked him to. I…"

At this she stops. What could she say to defend herself?

"I care for him. He's been there for me through a lot of hardships, even when he didn't need to be. I just…" Rey resists the urge to groan, instead twirling her coffee in her cup with a spoon. "I want to propose, yes. But that's not the only reason I don't turn around and go back. I just… there's my landlord, you see? He…" she clears her throat.

God, this is uncomfortable, and she's sharing more about her past with a total stranger than she'd _ever_ shared with even her friends. But he'd known how to act with her in the bath that one day.

"Yes?" Kylo prompts when she stops too long, and his voice is _curiously_ level. Non-judgemental. Yeah, he might know how to deal with this. At least he wouldn't judge her for it. Maybe him knowing might also explain at least one of the reasons she's so set on getting to Finn. Kylo doesn't push further, so she wraps herself up in courage and continues.

"He used to be my foster father. He wasn't… a pleasant man." Rey says, explaining to him how she'd hidden from Plutt until he left for work because the man had a habit of _grabbing_ at her, trying to pass it off as fatherly affection when he'd squeeze her thigh, or gently _tap_ her ass, and the touches had only become worse the older she'd gotten. The ghosted touches down her chest when throwing an arm over her shoulder. The way he'd pull her in close to his side, swallowing her under his ever-growing girth and his arm. The way he'd plant kisses that lingered too long, or how she would hear him against her shower door, panting, while Rey tried to ignore the sounds and finish washing her hair. She chokes back a whimper and has to look away at the murderous look on Kylo's face, but continues on bravely.

"He was…" she can't continue, so she changes tracks. "Anyway. As soon as I aged out of the system, Finn took me in. We still ended up renting from Plutt because two kids recently aged out could never afford to live in NYC elsewhere… and… well… I'm a freelance photographer. He's a writer. We _still_ don't make enough. As long as I stay away from Plutt, it's not so bad. The apartment's nice and anything that breaks I can fix."

She certainly could do that. She'd spent enough time doing 'the super's work' as New Yorkers called it, but really, it was Plutt's work, fixing broken things in tennants' apartments. A way to _pay_ for her room and board. Still, if she can't get a hold of Finn she'd have to return. Life doesn't stop for marriage proposals. When she finishes they sit there for a long moment in silence.

"You're not going back," Kylo says.

Rey blinks and looks up.

"Excuse me?" she asks, confused. When Kylo speaks again, it's with an authority she hadn't realized he posessed, tone hard and eyes harder, speaking the words as though it meant the matter were closed.

"Even if… _Finn_ , you said his name is? Even if he can't return to Dublin right away, you're not going back to New York on your own."

* * *

 **A/N:** This story updates Fridays!


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